


Perfectly Imperfect

by JustSomeStranger



Series: Perfectly Imperfect [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Birth, Canon-Typical Violence, Childbirth, Disabled Character, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description, Intellectual Disability, Kid Fic, M/M, Mild Blood, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mpreg, Original Character(s), Physical Disability, Post Mpreg, Sick Character, Some Humor, Surgery, roadrat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2019-07-27 07:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16214204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeStranger/pseuds/JustSomeStranger
Summary: The law has finally caught up with Junkrat and Roadhog, and now they're both left with a decision. Join the newly revived Overwatch, or face Prison. And with international authorities and bounty hunters still tracking them down, they could really use the protection. Especially since Junkrat is about to have their kid.





	1. Escapade

In the city of Barcelona, a child stood with his mother while eagerly awaiting his ice cream. Upon receiving it, he took the treat and started licking it. That was when screaming started erupting and the roar of a bike could be heard from further down the street. The mother turned her head to look as did the ice cream man, and immediately they scattered, the mother dragging her son with her as a chopper bike tore through the ice cream stand, shattering it into many wooden pieces. Everyone stared at the bike with confusion as it zipped by, chased by several police cars and a helicopter. The boy continued licking his ice cream.

Roadhog gripped the clutch tighter as they weaved through the bustling city. The wind and adrenaline rushed through him as his bike sped from the police. Junkrat sat in the sidecar, trying not to hurl up the contents of his stomach. Not that there’d be much to throw up. Rat usually loved riding in the sidecar. It gave him a thrill almost akin to blowing things up. But due to recent circumstances, that was no longer the case. He gripped the sidecar with one hand with another hand covering his mouth. The police drew nearer. Another helicopter joined the one following them. Roadhog kept his eyes peeled for any blockades or road spikes up ahead. Those were the worst.

“Hoggy! Don’t think I can take much more of this!” Said Junkrat, trying not to gag.

“Shut up!” Replied Roadhog over the engine roar. He could throw up on his leg for all he cared.

Just as he suspected, a barricade came into view. Roadhog swerved right, leading to Rat vomiting over the side. They sped on while pedestrians scrambled to get out of their way.

…

_5 months or so earlier_

“I’M WHAT?” Junkrat exclaimed.

“Please don’t shout Mr Fawkes, or we’re gonna have to ask you to leave.” Said the doctor whose voice grated on him the more she spoke. Junkrat folded his arms and sulked. Roadhog just sat in silence. Whether it was stunned silence, Rat was unsure. The doctor cleared her throat and spoke again. “I said, the test results have come back. And I can confirm that you’re pregnant.”

“…But… but.” Rat stammered.

The cogs slowly started to turn in Junkrat’s mind. Everything was slotting into place. The nausea, the constant vomiting, the ravenous appetite, the tiredness and fatigue, cravings for certain foods, and everything tasting of copper. Along with other things he couldn’t remember. That was another thing, his memory had got even worse recently. It made carrying out heists almost impossible. Roadhog insisted he see a doctor but Junkrat being Junkrat, he refused to go. He hated doctors. Hated the way they looked at him, cold and uncaring, like he was a piece of meat ready to be poked, prodded, or cut up. At least, that’s how doctors were in prisons. Not that hospital and community doctors were much better in his eyes. It wasn’t until he mysteriously started gaining weight around his midsection that he finally agreed to go.

“I take it this is a big shock.” The doctor said. “Shall I leave you two alone to discuss your options with one another?”

“I want it gone!” Was Rat’s answer.

“You wish to terminate.” The doctor clarified.

“Yeah!”

“… I’m afraid it’s a little too late for that.” She said.

“What d’ya mean?” He demanded.

“Well… the limitation for abortion is twelve weeks. You’re at least a few weeks past that, if not more.”

She droned on like that for a while. Something about threats to health and other things being an exception. Junkrat sat with indignation. There was a limit? How was he supposed to have known that?

“So that’s it? I’m stuck with this thing?” He said, exasperated.

“Not necessarily. You still have options.” The doctor interjected.

“What are our options?” Roadhog finally spoke.

Again, the doctor yabbered on. Junkrat didn’t care to listen. He looked down at the slight bump in his belly, frustration and anger boiling within him.

…

Roadhog rounded the corner to find another blockade in his path. He made a left, another blockade. Damn this city structure. They were clearly being herded into a trap. The streets were clearer, the pedestrians evacuated. Roadhog made a tight U-turn only to see the hoard of police cars that had been trailing them. They were cornered. Both men readied their weapons.

For a while there was a standoff. Neither side daring to make a move.

“WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED!” A heavily accented voice blared from the helicopter. “LAY DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND PLACE YOURSELVES ON THE GROUND FACE DOWN WITH YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEADS”.

Fuck that.

“Get down.” Commanded Roadhog. Junkrat immediately obeyed with a giggle.

The chopper roared to life and charged at one of the blockades. Gunshots rang out, some of them hitting the large hulk of a man who didn’t seem phased by his injuries. The police started throwing down more spikes as the bike approached them. That’s when a land mine flew out of the sidecar and landed just in front of the police who then scrambled to get away. With the press of a button, half the blockade was decimated. The Junkers raced through the opening, with Junkrat howling in hysterics.

“Did ya see the looks on their faces, Roadie?” Said Junkrat.

“Sure did.” His partner answered, breathing in a whole can of Hogdrogen.

That’s when they heard a loud pop. The bike went off kilter and began to swerve.

“Fuck!” Exclaimed Roadhog as he brought the bike to a stop.

“Now what?” Junkrat asked, desperation evident in his voice.

The wail of sirens drew closer once again. Roadhog shot at the approaching police cars with his scrap gun. He helped his partner out of the sidecar and they ran, abandoning the bike and trying to duck into a nearby block. Suddenly a pain shot through Junkrat. He dropped his frag launcher and placed both hands to his arched back, gritting his teeth. Roadhog turned pale beneath his mask. Was it time? Of course the baby would decide to come at a time like this. Junkrat soon reverted back to his usual posture however.

“Ah man, that fucking hurt.” He said, rubbing his sore back. “This brat’s gonna get us nabbed one day.”

As if on cue, police cars and bikes pulled up and several Spanish police aimed their firearms towards them. There wouldn’t be enough time to aim their weapons before being shot. There was nothing they could do but surrender.

…

Junkrat sat alone in the interrogation room, handcuffed to an old wheelchair. Both his prosthetic arm and leg had been confiscated. The Spanish authorities weren’t prepared to give him crutches in case he used them as weapons. He jigged his foot and tapped his fingers on the wheelchair. Three hours he had been questioned. Three. Whole. Hours. He would have died of boredom by now if his back and hips weren’t already killing him. He glared down at his bulky stomach, the baby within restless. He hissed as it rolled over inside him. His skin was so stretched, each movement the baby made caused pain.

“This’s your fault.” He growled at his stomach. “‘S ‘cos of you I’m in here.”

The door opened.

“Howdy.” A stranger greeted in an accent that clearly wasn’t Spanish.

“Who are you?” Junkrat asked, taken aback.

The stranger sauntered into the room and sat opposite to the Junker.

“Name’s McCree.” The stranger said. “You’ve probably guessed by now I’m not a cop. I take it you wanna know why I’m here.”

“Ya want something from me, I know that much.” Rat retorted. He wanted his treasure, he was sure of it.

“On the contrary.” Said McCree. “I’m here to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

Junkrat narrowed his eyes at him, the cowboy took this as a sign to continue.

“Y’know about the second Omnic crisis in Siberia? Course you have. Been headline news for a while now. Well, that’s where people like me come in. We put a stop to these sorts of things. You’ve probably heard of us.” He paused to gage the Junker’s reaction, who continued his icy glare. “We’ve been shutdown for a while, but we’re starting back up again. Albeit in an unofficial manner. And we’d like to offer you a chance to join us. How do you fancy joining Overwatch?”

Junkrat just stared at the cowboy, before howling with laughter.

“Are you off yer rocker mate?” He said. “Why the hell would I ever join a bunch of Omnic sympathisers who tried to give me home over to a bunch of machines? D’ya really think me and Roadie wanna help ya with “world peace and harmony” between people and walking scrap? Well think again!”

McCree only leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head.

“Here’s the thing.” He said matter-of-factly. “I’ll say the same thing to you as I said to your partner. Right now you’re at a crossroad. You’re facing spending the rest of your life behind bars. Most likely in a maximum security prison. That means no more robbing, no more bombing, and no more escapades. And eventually, the world will forget about you. I heard you have a kid on the way. Prison’s no place for a kid to be born. Don’t you want your kid to have a future?”

“What does it matter what happens to the brat?” Junkrat retorted.

“Oh not much.” Said McCree. “Just thought you cared. Clearly I was mistaken. But… it does also mean you don’t get to be with Roadhog no more. Especially since he agreed to join.”

“Roadie agreed?” Rat exclaimed.

“Uh huh. Most likely for your sake.” Said McCree. “Your choice. Take it or leave it.”

Junkrat clenched his fist as McCree got up to leave. He did _not_ want to join Overwatch, no way. But neither did he want to go to prison. Plus the prospect of never seeing Roadhog again wasn’t something he could bear thinking about.

“Wait!” Junkrat called.

McCree was at the door by this point, he turned towards the Junker.

“Fine. I’ll join. But I ain’t gonna be nice to no Omnics. And I ain’t gonna work with em either.”

“It’s a deal.”


	2. Meeting The Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry this chapter took as long as it did.

_Watch Point Gibraltar_

“Please, allow me to examine you, Mr. Fawkes.” Mercy pleaded.

“No!”

“You have to,” Roadhog insisted.

“Piss off! I ain’t letting some quack near me!”

“Let me assure you, Mr. Fawkes, that I’m perfectly qualified in what I do.” Said Angela.

The day after arriving at the old Gibraltar base, the resident doctor Angela Ziegler insisted she see the two new recruits as soon at possible, especially after finding out one of them was pregnant. Roadhog had brought Junkrat to her against his will, carrying him bridal style much to Rat’s embarrassment. They now stood outside the medical bay, with Junkrat refusing to enter.

“Don’t care!” Said Junkrat. “I ain’t going in!”

“Mr. Fawkes-“

“Stop calling me that!”

“Sorry M-Jamison,” She corrected herself. “But it is vital that you receive prenatal care. It is crucial to the health of you and your baby.”

“I ain’t going in!” Rat said defiantly.

Roadhog moved to manhandle Junkrat, only to be stopped by Mercy. She turned back to Junkrat.

“Is there a reason you won’t let me examine you, Jamison?” She asked.

“I don’t trust ya, that’s why,” was Rat’s response.

Mercy let out a sigh.

“Is there nothing I can do to convince you to let me check you over?” She asked.

“Mate, there ain’t nothing you can do to make me yer lab rat.” He said.

“That’s not-“ Mercy stopped herself. “Very well. But I must warn you that by refusing prenatal care, you’re putting both yourself and your baby at risk for various complications.”

“Noted and filed under Don’t Give a Shit.” He said, trying to sound more confident and uncaring than he really was.

…

Both Junkers walked back to their sleeping quarters. Or rather Roadhog walked, Junkrat just waddled uneasily. Trying to walk with a pregnant belly was difficult in itself, doing so on a peg leg made the process almost treacherous. Even though they weren’t married to each other, the two men had been allocated a room in the married quarters. No one else was sleeping there which suited them just fine. They would get all the privacy they needed.

After they entered their room, which was already starting to become cluttered with their things, Roadhog turned around to glare at Junkrat through his mask.

“What?” Said Rat, feigning ignorance.

“You know exactly what.” Growled Roadhog.

“Oh, that?” Rat arched his back with his hands. He needed pillows or a hot water bottle badly. “Why should I let that doc put her hands all over me? ‘Sides, not like I _have_ to go see her.”

“But you _need_ to.” Hog responded.

“So she can stick me like a pincushion? Hook me up to machines? Cut me up to see me innards? Make me take off me arm and leg? Fuck no!” Junkrat said.

Roadhog stared at his partner in confusion. Why was he so against seeing a doctor? Throughout the pregnancy, he’d only seen a doctor once. Every time he brought up the subject, Junkrat shot it down immediately. Even back alley doctors weren’t an option. For a long time he had assumed that it was to avoid leaving a paper trail for the authorities to find. But now they were under the protection of Overwatch, there was no need. Unless there was another reason. Then it hit him.

“You’re scared.” He said in realisation.

It made sense the more he thought about it. He remembered one time when they were serving time in the Middle East, he saw Junkrat, kicking out and screaming words of profanity as he was hauled off to the prison’s infirmary. When he came out a few days later, he looked shell-shocked and defeated. God only knows what they did to him in there.

Junkrat’s eyes widened for a split second.

“Pff. D-don’t know what yer talking about.” He stuttered. “Me, scared? Nothing scares the one and only Junkrat!”

“Hmm.” Roadhog looked at his partner with skepticism.

…

Later on that day, the two men went to the mess hall for their evening meal. But when they got there, they were surprised to see there weren’t as many people as they were expecting. Roadhog remembered what Overwatch was like back in its heyday. A large organisation with thousands of agents scattered across the world. Now however, they didn’t even have cleaners or a cook. It was literally just a skeleton crew. And a gorilla. They both made their way to the canteen and lined up with the others. Serving them was a man in a mask and red visor wearing a blue apron with “Raise the Steaks” written on it. Roadhog held himself back from laughing at how ridiculous he looked.

“What can I getcha?” Their server asked in a gruff voice.

Roadhog just pointed to the foods he wanted, the older man sighed and started loading his trey. Then came Junkrat’s turn. Hog could tell he’d be bouncing with joy if he could.

“I want that, and that, and that, and that, and that, and that, and that, and that, and can ya mix that with that?”

“You want me to mix spinach with jello?” Their server exclaimed, clearly disgusted.

“Yeah!” Said Rat, “And can ya give me that as well?”

“Ugh, fine.” The server said, complying with the Junker’s wishes.

Both men took their trays and found an empty table away from the other agents. Junkrat immediately dug into his meal, so ravenous was he despite the dull ache in his back and stomach. Roadhog watched over him while he ate. Seeing the younger man eat gave him a sense of satisfaction. Radiation had done a number on Junkrat from a young age, the fact that he was now putting on weight, even it was because of pregnancy, was encouraging. Of course eating plenty was one thing, whether he’d keep his food down was another. Apparently morning sickness didn’t just happen in the morning, nor only in the first trimester. Roadhog was soon snapped out of his thoughts by the clinking of metal trays on the table. He looked up to see two agents, a man and a woman around Junkrat’s age had joined them. Great.

“D’you mind if we sit with you? You guys look kinda lonely.” Said the man with dark skin and huge dreadlocks.

Roadhog gave a grunt of disapproval, but neither one seemed to take the hint.

“I’m Hana, and this here is Lúcio.” Said the woman wearing a skin tight suit and pink streaks across her face. “But you can just call me D.va. What’s your names?”

Roadhog really wasn’t in the mood for socialising, especially with other young people. He decided to ignore her question and continue eating.

“I’m Junkrat!” He heard his partner say. “And this here’s the love of me life and best mate, Roadie.”

“Roadie?” Said D.va, confused.

“Roadhog.” He corrected her.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” Lúcio held out his hand towards the Junkers. Rat eagerly took it but Hog left him hanging, creating an awkward situation for the agent. “ _Anyway_ , no need to guess what you guys can do.”

“Ya don’t?” Asked Junkrat.

“You kidding me?” Said Lúcio. “You guys robbed the Dorado bank! All without being caught! That takes some skill.”

Junkrat giggled, flattered by the compliment.

“Hey!” D.va chimed in. “Did you hear what they’re saying about you on the news?”

“Hear what?” Asked Roadhog, looking up from his dinner.

“They’re saying that you two managed to escape arrest.” She said. “That some guy got you out under false pretences. They’re searching for you right now. Oh, and the bounty on you has been increased. Bet that’s gonna attract loads more bounty hunters.”

Both Junkers tensed upon hearing this, Junkrat gave a nervous laugh. Suddenly his stomach cramped hard, the dull pain he had been feeling turned sharp.

“Hey, you okay there?” Lúcio asked. “You don’t look so good.”

Panting, Rat placed his hand on his stomach as another one of those false contractions intensified. Suddenly he felt sick. He steadily got up to go, but didn’t make it far before he vomited onto the floor. Everyone turned and looked in disgust.

“I’m _not_ cleaning that!” The man in the red visor said.

“No worries Soldier, we got this!” D.va said.

Roadhog got up and guided Junkrat back to the table. That was when the agents noticed the pregnant stomach.

“You’re not actually gonna be fighting with us while you’re… y’know?” Asked Lúcio.

“What’s it to ya?” Said an irritated Junkrat, riding out the false contractions.

“No.” Hog confirmed, rubbing his back.

Junkrat glared at him.

“Oh well.” Said Lúcio. “When you’re ready, you’re always welcome.”

”Hey, congratulations!” D.va piped up, trying to lighten the mood. “When are you due?”

“Ain’t none of yer business.” Junkrat snapped.

Irked, D.va held her tongue.

“Maybe we should change the subject.” Lúcio interjected, uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading.

…

Pleasure, pain, lust, desire, Junkrat felt it all as he straddled Roadhog. Their breaths catching in their throats as Rat slowly moved up and down Hog’s thick length, both parties grunting and moaning in pure bliss. With his eyes crossed and tongue hanging out like a dog, Junkrat cried Roadhog’s name which only spurred on the older Junker. Hog supported Junkrat while the younger man held his huge pregnant belly with his only hand. The sensation of being held by two huge hands that could easily crush him only filled the young Junker with adrenaline and delirium. It was intoxicating.

“Roadiiieee!” Junkrat moaned, his voice quivering. “I’m coming! Oh God, I’m coming!”

“Only come when I say, boy.” Growled Roadhog, trying to keep himself from forcing him down, choking him, and pounding him hard like he used to.

“Pleeeease Roadie.” Junkrat begged. “I need ta, I _need_ ta.”

“When I say.” Said Roadhog, refusing to relent.

Junkrat whined but picked up the pace. It hurt, God it hurt. But it felt so good too. He gasped and panted along with Roadhog, the need to orgasm consuming them both. Finally, after what felt like hours, Roadhog gripped Junkrat tighter.

“Squeal for me, boy.” He commanded.

Unable to hold on any longer, Junkrat let out a cry of ecstasy, along with Roadhog’s groan of pleasure as they both reached their climax together. Junkrat wanted to fall into his partner, but Roadhog just carefully manoeuvred him onto the bed, taking care not to put pressure on his abdomen. With their fornication over, the Junkers just held each other, not wanting to let go. The aftercare could wait.

Since Junkrat started getting bigger, their sex life had to adjust in order to accommodate his changing body. No longer could they have the type of sex they were so used to, having to cut down heavily on choking, gagging, manhandling, and even deep penetration, much to the loathing of a more horny Junkrat, who thought they would never be able to have sex while he was knocked up. They tried all sorts of positions, including the boring missionary position, with no luck. After much trial and error, they finally found a position that worked for them, allowing them to release a lot of pent up sexual frustration.

Junkrat now rested with several pillows to his back, hips, and stomach. Not that they did much in eliminating the pain and discomfort, but it was much better than sleeping on the ground or in lumpy hotel beds. He hugged one of Roadhog’s huge arms, a look of content spreading across his face.

“Tha’ was good.” Rat purred, nuzzling into Hog’s side.

“Hmm.” The older Junker responded.

They stayed in silence for a while, just lying in the darkness. Roadhog loved moments like this, moments where Junkrat was too exhausted to be his usual blathering self, where they would just lay back and bask in each other’s company. Suddenly a hiss of pain came from the younger man. Junkrat placed his stump on his belly as he felt the baby inside him.

“It’s kicking me in the ribs again.” He groaned.

Roadhog slowly sat up to get a better look. He could just about see where the child’s feet were, causing small bumps to form in Junkrat’s large stomach. Tentatively, he placed a hand on his partner, gaging a reaction. Junkrat quickly relaxed upon feeling his touch. Gently, Roadhog began to massage Rat’s stomach, making circular motions with his hand. He soon felt the baby begin to relax, as did Junkrat.

“S’good.” Rat sighed, absentmindedly placing his stump where Roadhog’s hand was.

He stopped and looked down at the man lying next to him. He saw his chest and stomach rise and fall with each breath. He looked so serene. Roadhog watched him with awe. This idiot made him feel things he hadn’t felt in years, not since the Outback went to shit and he lost everyone dear to him. For a long time, he had thought that part of him had died along with those people. However, since falling for the Rat, each day he starts to feel ever so slightly more human again.

“Hoggy?” Said Junkrat.

Roadhog was snapped out of his thoughts.

“Yes?” He answered.

“Could ya do that thing again? Feels nice.”

“Sure.”

Roadhog went back to massaging Junkrat’s stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Your_Bones for helping me edit these chapters! Don't think they'd be as good as they are without you. If you like my story, go check out theirs. The story you're looking for is 'Tis the Vermin's Will.


	3. Under Attack

_Two days later_

Junkrat lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. He desperately wanted to sleep, but every half hour he would be awoken by a nagging pain in his back and stomach. He had tried everything to make it stop: getting a back rub from Roadhog, changing sleeping positions, even working on his bombs. But nothing seemed to work. By this time, Junkrat was both exhausted and frustrated. He hissed as another cramp started, clinging to a sleeping Roadhog’s arm. The cramps had been going on for a few weeks on and off. The first time they started, Junkrat had panicked thinking he had gone into labour early. To say he was relieved it was a false alarm was an understatement. This however, felt different. Junkrat couldn’t put his finger on it, but it seemed like each cramp lasted longer than the previous, and would be more painful too. But there should be nothing to worry about, he thought. He wasn’t due just yet, at least he shouldn’t be. Besides, labour didn’t start until the water breaks, that’s how it worked on TV and in movies at least.

…

_The next day_

“ **I am detecting intruders.** ” Athena announced. “ **Talon agents have breached the south side gates.** ”

“Everybody scramble!” Soldier barked over the intercom.

Roadhog raced to pull on his leather vest and mask.

“This is more like it!” Said an excited Junkrat, attaching his leg. “Finally, someone that could do with bein’ blown up! Looks like they’ll need my services after all.”

“You stay here,” said Roadhog, authoritatively.

“What? No way! I’m coming too!” Asserted Junkrat.

“You can’t fight in your state,” said Hog.

“Can too!” Retorted Junkrat. “Who put you in charge anyway? I certainly didn’t.”

“You’re too vulnerable,” stated Roadhog.

“Oi, I ain’t weak!” Rat snapped.

“You’re too slow and unsteady,” Roadhog continued. “You’ll get shot.”

“You can give me a can of that hogdrogen if that happens,” Junkrat giggled, a little more forced than usual.

“No.”

The word had a finality to it. Junkrat sat, arms folded and glared. He hated when Roadhog treated him like a petulant child, but he knew when he couldn’t change his partner’s mind. Roadhog grabbed his scrap gun and made to leave.

“Lock and barricade the door,” he instructed. “Only open it when you hear my voice. _Promise_ me you won’t leave this room.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Rat sighed.

And with that, Hog left, and Junkrat immediately dropped his facade. He held his stomach with one hand with the other to his back, clenching his teeth. The pain from last night had got worse. Not only that, they were growing closer together. Junkrat rode out the pain, panting through gritted teeth. Once it was over he jammed his boot on, then with great difficulty he got up. Junkrat grabbed his frag launcher and slipped out into the hallway. He was tired of feeling useless, tired of being cast aside and treated like he was breakable. He was determined to prove he was still capable of fighting, that he could still hold his own if shit hit the fan. This would be a great way to earn respect from his new team, and more importantly, from Roadhog. Once they saw how good he was in combat, they’d _have_ to let him go on missions. He wanted action, and action was what he would get.

…

After a few corridors, Junkrat came across his first Talon agents stalking the passageway. There were three of them, all decked out in black armour. Junkrat fired several bombs from around the corner. Immediately hearing several explosions and screams as his targets were obliterated. Rat let out a manic cackle.

“You’re blowing up!” He shrieked, gleefully.

He rounded the corner. Junkrat heard more footsteps and could see lasers from further down the corridor.

“This bomb’s for you!” He said, as he lobbed a land mine at the oncoming attackers.

The Talon agents immediately retreated, but weren’t fast enough to get away before Rat detonated the mine. The walls were painted red.

“If ya can’t handle the heat, stay out of the kitchen!”

Another giggle escaped Junkrat. He moved forward, eager for more action. He got it in the form of a whole horde of Talon agents running up the hallway towards him. Immediately he fired his frag launcher. The agents retreated, taking potshots at him. Junkrat ducked into a doorway, dodging their line of fire. He peeked out and fired more bombs, howling like the madman he was. Some agents couldn’t outrun the bombs. Screams erupted as they were blasted into oblivion. Junkrat was in his element.

“Everything I’ve worked so hard for, is going up in flames!” He cheered.

Suddenly a sharp pain engulfed Junkrat. He almost dropped his frag launcher as he curled in on himself, holding his stomach. He groaned, unable to straighten up. He heard the agents who escaped his bombs group up and try to aim their weapons at him through the smoke. Junkrat managed to gain enough composure to fire more bombs at the disoriented Talon agents. That’s when he felt something trickle down his legs. Junkrat looked down in confusion – had he just pissed himself? Then he realised.

“Oh hell,” he said, the colour draining from his face. “Not now.”

Junkrat hobbled through the corridors, trying to make his way back to the living quarters, the pain growing worse with each contraction.

…

Roadhog hooked another Talon agent and shot him point blank, sending blood spattering everywhere. He grunted as he felt a barrage of plasma fire hit him from behind. Whipping around, Hog shot at the attackers, forcing the survivors to scatter. Above him, a woman named Pharah let loose a onslaught of rockets on some unfortunate Talon agents.

“Justice, rains from above!” She proclaimed.

Just then, Roadhog lurched out of the way as a huge mech charged past him. D.va rounded a corner and shot at more agents that were out of sight. Roadhog turned back and saw a Talon agent had snuck up behind him, his gun trained on his head. He hesitated, intimidated by the hulk of a man that stood before him. Hog wasted no time and shot him. Suddenly, a nervous haze descended on the hall. Everyone stopped fighting. A black mist appeared and floated above the fighters and stacks of crates towards an overhanging balcony. It was there, the black mist took shape. Standing on the balcony was a black hooded figure, with a mask resembling a skull.

“Reaper,” Hog heard Winston say.

The figure “Reaper” let out a sinister cackle.

“Death comes to all,” he sneered. “Especially the members of Overwatch.”

So, he planned to kill them, or shut them down. Most likely both. Hog held back a chuckle. If he thought he could show up dressed like the Grim Reaper thinking it would intimidate him, well, he had sparred with plenty of Junkers in fancy costumes, most a lot scarier than this bastard. Roadhog eyed him up as his next target.

“No chance!” Exclaimed D.va, firing up her mech.

And just like that, the spell was broken and the fighting resumed.

…

Junkrat stumbled through the maze of corridors, huffing and panting as the pain began to grow more unbearable. He was completely lost. The signs all blurred together as Junkrat began to panic. He stopped and leaned against the wall, letting out a groan as another contraction reared its ugly head. Junkrat heard footsteps coming down the hallway towards him. Breathing heavily, he aimed his frag launcher, bracing himself for an onslaught. Suddenly, Junkrat cried out as another contraction gripped him. Unable to stand, he slid to the floor with a pathetic whimper. The thudding of boots grew closer. Rat felt a surge of panic. He was alone, in pain, and unable to fight back. He couldn’t be in a more worse position. He sat there heaving, feebly attempting to ease the agony he was in. That’s when he heard a heavy clunking sound, followed by the roaring of machine gun fire and screams of the dying.

“ **Multiple targets neutralised,** ” he heard a robotic voice say.

The clunking sound then continued, drawing nearer until Junkrat finally saw who, or rather what, it was. Needles to say, he was less than pleased to see one of the piles of scrap he was now forced to work with standing before him.

“ **Greetings,** ” said Orisa, taking in the pitiful sight of Junkrat. “ **Are you in distress?** ”

“Fuck off, ya piece of crap!” He growled before unleashing another agonised cry.

Orisa just stood there and cocked her head, much to Rat’s dismay.

“ **On a scale of one to ten, how do you rate your pain?** ”

“I SAID FUCK OFF, YA BLOODY PIECE OF GOOD FER NOTHING SCRAP PILE!” Screamed Junkrat, pointing his frag launcher at her.

“ **You require medical attention.** ” Orisa continued, undaunted. “ **I would advise that you seek the nearest medical personnel as soon as possible. Would you like me to escort you to the medical bay?** ”

“Over me dead body!” Snarled Rat, using his frag launcher to hoist himself up.

He made to leave in the direction she came from.

“ **It is ill advised that you go in that direction as it is not-** “

She screeched and jumped back as Junkrat fired several bombs her way. She stumbled around, disoriented by the explosions. When the smoke cleared, he was gone.

“ **This is Orisa online,** ” Orisa said, patching into the communication network. “ **Medical assistance is required for the agent code name, Junkrat. His last known location was in Corridor 2A heading towards the main hall. Current whereabouts, unknown.** ”

She then trotted off after him.

…

In the main hall, everyone was in the throws of battle when Mercy received Orisa’s message.

“I’m needed elsewhere!” Said Mercy. “Soldier, Ana, take over from me!”

“Got it!” Soldier responded, releasing his Biotic Field. “Get over here and heal up!”

“Very well!” Ana answered, readying her Biotic Rifle.

Mercy made to go when she spotted Roadhog making his way towards her, pushing both friend and foe out of his way. He must have also heard the message.

“I’m coming with you!” Hog asserted.

Mercy wasn’t about to argue with him, nor was she about to turn down freely offered protection.

“Cover me!” She said. And with that, they both marched into the fray to find Junkrat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry this one took so long, haven't been feeling well lately.


	4. Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birth

Upon entering the hall, Junkrat squeezed himself behind a stack of metal crates. The space was cramped and uncomfortable, but it was also dark and secluded meaning he wouldn’t be easily seen. Gunshots and blasts could be heard close by. Rat moaned as he slid to the floor, sweat dripping down his soot covered forehead, causing streaks to form. The pain and the pressure he felt was unreal. He had been through torture less painful than this.

“No,” pleaded Junkrat. “Nonononono-“

Junkrat howled as another wave of pain consumed him. He writhed there on the floor, coiling and uncoiling. He was dying, he was sure of it. How could anyone feel this much pain and not die?

“JESUS, FUCK!”

“Did you hear that?” He heard a voice, a woman’s, say.

A grunt responded to her question, a sound Junkrat instantly recognised. He tensed as he heard them rushing to his hiding place.

Mercy and Roadhog peeked behind the crates. They saw Junkrat, back to the wall, breathing heavily and clearly in pain.

“Don’t come any closer!” Growled Junkrat, aiming his frag launcher at them with shaking hands.

For a while they just stood there, dumbfounded. Then Roadhog stepped forward.

“I said keep back, ARGH!” Junkrat doubled over, balling his fists, almost squeezing the trigger.

“Jamison,” said Mercy. “It’s okay, it’s just us.”

“You ain’t comin’ near me!” He said, cocking his frag launcher.

It was then both Mercy and Roadhog realised the predicament they were in. They could both tell Junkrat was in full blown labour, and completely terrified. He was behaving like a cornered animal, ready to do whatever it took to preserve himself.

“Jamison,” said Mercy, trying to reassure him. “I need to look at you. You’re clearly in a lot of pain. I know you’re scared, but I only want to help you.”

“Come any closer, an’ I’ll blow ya apart!” Was all Junkrat’s response.

“Rat,” Roadhog finally spoke up. “I’m here.”

“Roadie? S’that you?” Junkrat asked, hopefully.

“It’s me,” Hog affirmed.

Junkrat lowered his weapon, tears of relief threatening to spill. His Hog was here, everything would be okay. That was when Rat felt another powerful contraction, he let out an excruciating cry. Roadhog and Mercy rushed to get to him, squeezing into the cramped space. Roadhog shifted the heavy crates out of the way, making the cramped space slightly more spacious. He then kneeled and took the shaking Junker in his arms.

“It hurts, Mako! It hurts!” Rat sobbed, clinging to Roadhog.

“Don’t worry,” said Mercy. “That means things are progressing as normal.”

Junkrat saw her approaching and panicked.

“Get away from me!” He shrieked, kicking out at her.

“Jamison!” Mercy backed away.

Suddenly, a thunder of boot steps hurtled past them. More Talon agents.

“Jamison, shhh,” Mercy whispered. “You need to be quiet.”

Junkrat only wailed in response. This undoubtedly alerted the Talon agents who thundered their way back to where the three of them were hiding. Roadhog readied his hook, and Mercy her pistol, both ready to fight to the death. Then out of nowhere, a barrier flew down in front of them just as the Talon agents opened fire. The Talon agents turned and saw the hulking figure of Orisa standing at the mouth of the passageway.

“ **Not so fast,** ” She said before unleashing her own fire power on them.

The Talon agents that weren’t killed scrambled to get away, ducking behind crates and aircrafts for protection from the gigantic Omnic.

“ **Threat neutralised.** ”

She approached the hiding place of her teammates.

“What a relief to see you,” said Mercy, much to the disagreement of the two Junkers.

“ **Your safety is my primary concern,** ” said Orisa.

“We need you to cover us while we move Junkrat to safety,” said Mercy.

“ **Understood.** ”

“H-Hoggy,” Junkrat breathed, weakly. “I can feel it… moving down… it hurts.”

It was then, Mercy knew she had to move quickly.

“Change of plan!” She said, rushing to the nearest first aid kit she saw. “Orisa, defend our position!”

“ **Establishing defence point,** ” Orisa responded. “ **Get behind the barrier.** ”

Mercy rushed back to the Junkers with the first aid kit. Junkrat gazed back at her, terrified.

“Don’t hurt me,” he whimpered.

Her heart broke for him. Mercy had treated many patients in her time, including those with a fear of doctors. But never in her career had she treated someone who genuinely thought she was going to hurt them.

“Jamison,” she cooed. “Look at me. Look at me, Jamison.”

Junkrat looked at her.

“I promise you… I will _never_ hurt you. I will do everything I can to get you through this. But I need you to _let_ me help you. Understand?”

Junkrat nodded, tears running down his cheeks. He buried his head in Roadhog’s chest, feeling the strength of the older Junker as he cradled him in his arms.

“I’m here,” Hog said. “I’ve got you.”

Mercy removed Junkrat’s boot and peg leg then pulled his soaked shorts down, noting the red mucus in his boxers. She manoeuvred him until he was in a squatting position in Roadhog’s hands. After disinfecting her hands, both before and after tugging on latex gloves, she inserted her fingers into him one by one until her whole hand could easily fit inside with plenty of wiggle room to spare. All the while coaxing him through each step.

“Well, it appears you’re fully dilated,” Mercy said, removing her hand. “It’s only a matter of time now.”

They waited a few minutes with Mercy encouraging Junkrat to breathe. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, Junkrat felt a new urge.

“I, I need ta take a shit,” he said.

Mercy smiled at that unintentionally comical phrase.

“That’s good! That means you’re ready to push,” she said.

“I am?” Asked Junkrat, hopefully.

“Yes!” Mercy confirmed. “Whenever you feel ready, push as hard as you can, Jamison.”

As if on cue, Junkrat felt another contraction begin to rear its ugly head. He huffed and panted, gripping Roadhog tighter. The pain and the urge to push grew and grew, becoming more and more unbearable. When the contraction reached its peak, Junkrat bore down hard, letting out an agonised groan. He felt something shift down inside him.

“That’s it! Now breathe,” said Mercy.

Junkrat collapsed into Roadhog, panting with exhaustion.

“Is it out yet?” He mumbled.

“I’m afraid it’s going to take more than one push,” Mercy explained.

Junkrat let out a groan of frustration. Would this ever end?

“Keep going,” said Roadhog, encouraging him.

On the next contraction, Junkrat bore down a second time. Again, Mercy told him to breathe, and Roadhog gave him small words of encouragement. He pushed again and again with each contraction, his face clenched and his voice cracking as he fought to bring the child into the world. Mercy watched in anticipation, looking for any signs of the baby. A few pushes in, she saw something. Junkrat’s opening parted ways slightly, revealing a tiny patch of dark hair before it slid back in again.

“The head’s starting to show! Keep it up!” Mercy said, sounding excited.

Though starting to tire, Junkrat complied and pushed again. Like last time, the patch of hair emerged then disappeared from view.

“Almost,” said Mercy. “Push harder!”

“What d’ya think I’m doing!” Yelled Junkrat, bearing down again.

The dark hair once again made an appearance, this time without sliding back in. With each push, more and more of the head began to emerge.

“Okay, Jamison,” Mercy said. “I need you to stop pushing.”

“I… can’t!” Junkrat panted, pushing harder.

“Jamison. Jamison, stop!” Mercy was starting to get concerned.

“Jamie!” Barked Roadhog. “Stop pushing!”

“I… CAN’T!” Shrieked Junkrat, pushing frantically, unable to resist the urge.

As the head crowned, Junkrat let out a bloodcurdling scream. Mercy saw a bloody tear and couldn’t help but wince in sympathy. Junkrat began hyperventilating.

“I CAN’T DO THIS!” He sobbed.

“You can,” said Roadhog, gazing down at the man he loved. “You’ve come so far already.”

“But it _hurts_!” Junkrat reiterated.

“Here.” Mercy took Junkrat’s flesh hand and brought it down onto what felt like a solid mass. “Do you feel it?” Said Mercy. “That’s your baby’s head.”

Junkrat’s heart lurched in his chest. That was his kid. _His_ kid. It hadn’t felt real until now. For months he had pretended it wasn’t there, that it was just a parasite or a tumour. But now that he felt it in his hand, it made him feel something similar to how he had felt since being with Roadhog. Curiously, he explored the head, his fingers lightly brushing over the velvet scalp and silky hair. His lips quivered, fresh tears appearing.

“I know you feel like giving up,” said Mercy. “But the hardest part is almost over. I promise it gets easier from here.”

“Ya promise?” Echoed Junkrat.

“On my life.”

Just then, Junkrat felt another surge of pain. With new found strength and determination, he bore down, but this time in short bursts, going slowly as Mercy instructed. The baby slowly started to turn sideways as it emerged further. Rat wriggled slightly in discomfort, the tear making the whole process sting. Soon the rest of the head emerged; first the eyes and ears, then the nose, then finally the mouth and chin. Junkrat gasped as he felt a pop and some of the pressure leave him. He huffed and puffed, catching his breath.

“The head is born, stop pushing!” Said Mercy, cupping it in her hand. “Just rest for now, Jamison. You’ve done so well.”

She took out a piece of bandage from the open first aid kit and used it to wipe away any fluid or membrane blocking the baby’s airways. She then felt around the opening, making sure the umbilical cord wasn’t around the baby’s neck.

“I’m sorry, Roadie,” said Junkrat, weakly. “I should’a stayed in our room.”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Roadhog, stroking Junkrat’s thigh with his thumb. “I knew you wouldn’t listen anyway.”

“Ya ain’t mad?” Said Junkrat, confused.

“No,” Hog answered.

Junkrat laid his head back against Hog’s chest, smiling. Roadhog wasn’t usually the forgiving type, but this whole giving birth thing seemed to have softened him a little. Junkrat kind of liked it. Rat then let out a frustrated moan as he felt another contraction coming.

“Okay. Now for the shoulders.” Mercy said, bracing herself to receive them.

Junkrat huffed and panted as the pain grew with intensity. Once again, he bore down fiercely, feeling the shoulders trying to get free.

“Push harder!” Said Mercy.

He pushed again, and again, and again. The baby still didn’t move. A look of concern spread across Mercy’s face.

“It ain’t budging!” Yelled Junkrat.

Just as she feared, the shoulders were stuck. She had to work fast to prevent any serious damage to either Junkrat or the baby. Or worse. Junkrat’s breathing slowed, his body and mind beginning to tire. He was exhausted, his whole world blurring into nothing but pain and delirium.

“Jamison?” He heard Mercy call to him, though her voice sounded distant. “Come on Jamison, stay with me.”

Mercy turned her attention to Roadhog, who despite his mask, was looking just as worried as she was.

“Lift his legs above his chest!” She commanded.

Roadhog immediately obeyed, lifting up his leg and stump with his hands. Junkrat panted and pushed again, more out of instinct than anything else. But his attempt was weaker than usual. The shoulder moved somewhat, but not enough to get free. Mercy placed a fist on the base of Junkrat’s stomach and gently pressed. With a pop, the shoulder came free. It all moved fast from there. The other shoulder came free and with a final push from Junkrat, the baby slipped out. Junkrat collapsed into Roadhog’s arms, breathing like he had run across the entire Outback with his partner on his shoulders. He was completely sore all over, and it didn’t help that there was this horrible wailing sound in his ear. Wait. Junkrat lifted his head to look at the source of the sound. That’s when he saw it. He saw Mercy, holding a pink, bloody, slimy, wrinkled, squirming creature that had a fleshy rope attached to it. Its wail was weak, yet piercing.

“It’s a girl,” said Mercy, grinning from ear to ear.

Mercy placed the baby on Junkrat’s chest, making sure he held her properly and turning her head to the side. She immediately stopped fussing.

“Well done, Jamie,” said Roadhog, a little bit of adoration in his voice.

Junkrat just stared at the baby, not quite sure what to make of her. She was the most ugly thing he had ever seen, and he had seen some pretty ugly mugs in his short time. Though on closer inspection, he realised just how much she looked like Roadhog, minus the mask of course. She had his ears, his nose, his lips, his dark hair from when he was younger, her eyes were blue though. In that instance, maybe she wasn’t so ugly after all. Mercy got out two clips and used them to clamp the cord before cutting it.

“We’re not done yet,” she said. “Now we need to deliver the placenta.”

“The wha?” Asked Junkrat before feeling another contraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, this is not where the story ends. Quite the contrary. There will be more soon.


	5. Fragile Heart

After hours of fighting, the members of Overwatch were finally able to drive Talon out of the base, forcing them to retreat with their tails between their legs. While there were injuries, by some miracle, there were no fatalities on their side. There were many cheers and celebrations for having fought together as a team and won. But when it was announced that a baby had been born, the sheer amount of delight and joy that filled the base was astronomical. Having refused stitches, much to Mercy’s dismay, Roadhog had carried Junkrat back to their room to rest. He would rather be sore and tender than have Mercy anywhere near him again. Mercy had only been able to check the baby over briefly before Junkrat snatched her back. Apart from being a little premature and underweight, there appeared to be nothing obviously wrong with her and was allowed to head back with her fathers to their living quarters.

Junkrat lay in bed with the baby resting on his chest, the covers over them both. He lay in just his boxers with a menstrual pad pressed to his groin. Apparently, it was normal to bleed down there after pushing a baby out. Despite being exhausted, he looked on, intrigued as his baby’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Just what the hell was he supposed to do with her? Here he was, holding this creature that had been growing inside him for nearly nine months, and now he was expected to just _know_ how to care for her? She didn’t even come with an instruction manual. Then again, she hadn’t cried or fussed since being born. Curiously, Junkrat took hold of her hand, being more gentle than his nature usually allowed. In response, she gripped his finger in her hand and snuggled further into his chest. Junkrat beamed, overcome with affection for the newborn.

“Heh,” he chuckled. “What d’ya have to be tired for? I’m the one who did all the hard work.”

Junkrat jiggled his baby’s arm with his finger.

“Not much of a talker, are ya,” he said, grinning. “Like Roadie.”

Roadhog huffed and looked away.

“Yer a tiny bugger, though.” Junkrat continued. “Like a joey, or a trinket. Hey! We ain’t named her yet!” He realised. “Ain’t we supposed to give it a name?”

Roadhog only grunted in response.

“Shame we can’t name it after us, it being a girl and all,” he giggled. “What did I say she was like? Ah yeah, a joey! Nah wait, that’s a bloke’s name,” Junkrat rambled. “What was the other thing? A trinket weren’t it? Yeah, Trinket! I like it! Suits her to a T. What d’ya think Roadie?”

Roadhog looked back at them, not saying anything, his expression cold.

“What? Me naming ain’t that bad, ain’t it?” Rat said, giggling.

Roadhog continued to give him that same emotionless stare. Junkrat looked up at him, hurt.

“Why are ya lookin’ at me like that?” He asked. “What’ve I done this time?”

Again, Hog said nothing, looking away.

“What is it?” He demanded, frustration building in him. “Why are ya giving me the cold shoulder, mate? What’s eatin’ ya? Roadie? Roadie, I’m talkin’ to ya! Roadie, turn yer fat head and look at me!”

Roadhog only continued to stare at nothing. Suddenly, the baby’s breathing began to grow loud. Junkrat turned his attention back to the newborn. Something wasn’t right; her breathing was laboured, she looked rather tired and lethargic, and to Junkrat’s horror, her hands, feet, and lips had all turned blue. Alarm set in.

“ROADIE!” He shrieked.

Roadhog snapped out of whatever trance he was in and whipped his head around. He saw Junkrat, eyes wild with panic, clutching the baby who now looked very sick.

“What’s wrong with her?” Rat asked, almost hysterical.

Roadhog didn’t answer. Seeing how dire the situation was, he leapt to his feet and rushed out of the room.

“Where are ya going?” Yelled Junkrat, wide eyed. “Ya can’t leave us!”

“To get help!” Said Roadhog.

Junkrat didn’t have time to object before Roadhog slammed the door shut.

A few minutes later, the door burst open again. Roadhog entered the room. And so did that dreaded doctor.

“I came as soon as I could,” said Mercy. “Don’t worry, we’ll soon find out what the problem is. I just need to run a few diagnostic tests, that’s all.”

“Oh, bloody hell! You again!” Junkrat exclaimed, clutching the baby closer and shielding her from Mercy.

Mercy was taken aback. She thought she had won his trust after the birth. Clearly not.

“Jamison,” she said. “I need to look at your baby. She’s clearly very sick.”

“You ain’t comin’ near us!” He growled, staring her down.

“Please, Jamison,” Mercy pleaded. “She needs to see a doctor. It could be very serious for all we know. I know you only want to protect her, but right now, the best thing you can do for her is to let me find out what’s wrong so we can fix it. You don’t even have to leave her side, I promise you can be with her every step of the way.”

Junkrat slowly turned his body back around, letting his guard down slightly. Mercy saw the sorry state the baby was in and knew she needed to act.

“We need to go to the Med Bay. Now,” she said.

Roadhog scooped Junkrat up with babe in arms. The Junkers and Mercy hurried to the Med Bay, with Junkrat anxiously cradling the unwell baby.

…

In the city of Barcelona, two unassuming men sat outside a cafe, sipping coffee and reading a news article on a transparent tablet. The article they read was about how two wanted criminals, Junkrat and Roadhog, had escaped arrest after being caught by the police. It detailed their chase through the city, how they had been captured, and how they had escaped with the help of another wanted criminal. It also came with video footage of the police chase from the helicopter. The first man scrolled through the article to the comments section.

_Great! Good to know we’ll be safe in our beds tonight._

_Pathetic. This is why you shoot first & ask questions later._

_The police are fucking useless these days. Can’t even keep scum from getting their asses bailed out by more scum._

_Bring back the noose!_

_Did Junkrat barf lol_

_I thought only Roadhog was fat_

After chuckling at some of the comments, he closed the article and began searching through police records. Stolen of course. Apparently, the man who bailed them out was identified as wanted ex-Deadlock gang member, McCree. The man scrolled on, not caring for that fact. Though his bounty was higher, he didn’t have what Junkrat and Roadhog did. The mysterious treasure. They had heard rumours of this treasure from many bounty hunters. But after doing extensive research, including heading to their target’s country of origin, they came to the conclusion that the treasure was indeed real and not the fabrication of a deranged criminal Junker from the irradiated Australian Outback. The only question was, what was it? Obviously, it was something valuable. But until they caught them and forced them to give up its location, they would just have to keep on guessing.

“Found anything useful?” The second man asked.

“Nothin’ yet. Trail’s gone cold,” the first man answered. “We’ll just have to wait until they show up on the news again.”

“Knowing them, they will soon enough,” the second man said, sipping his coffee.

…

In the cold, sterile, sickeningly white room that was the Med Bay, Junkrat and Roadhog sat beside their baby, awaiting the news of her condition. Roadhog’s hand rested on Junkrat’s shoulder, a small attempt at comfort. Their baby lay in an incubator with breathing tubes in her nose, wires going from her chest and belly button to various machines, IV needles in her ankle and arm, a vital signs cuff strapped to her foot, and other stuff they didn’t know did what. Junkrat hated it, it looked so unnatural. He wanted to tear off the wires and tubes that held his daughter hostage, but knew that doing so wasn’t a good idea. They sat in silence, listening to the beeping of the monitor. Mercy entered the room. She took out a chair and sat down, facing them. The Junkers could see she had a serious expression on her face. Neither of them dared ask her what the final verdict was.

“Thank you for being patient with me,” she said in a rather chipper voice. “I’m sorry I took as long as I did, but I had to go over the results several times to be sure. It’s just me and Echo you see, and some of our equipment is a little out of date-“

“Cut the crap doc, and tell us what’s wrong with her!” Said Junkrat, unable to take the suspense any longer.

Mercy took a deep breath before talking.

“Very well,” she said. “Some of the tests you saw me perform showed that your daughter has a heart murmur, basically that’s a sound heard between heartbeats.”

She looked at the Junkers to make sure they understood her. They seemed to at least have her undivided attention.

“Most heart murmurs are okay and go away over time, but her’s sounded abnormal,” she continued.

“Is that bad?” Asked Junkrat.

“In her case, yes,” answered Mercy. “The other tests you saw me do all point towards her having a congenital heart defect called Tricuspid Atresia.”

“Try-cups-bid Astresia?” Junkrat asked, confused.

“Tricuspid Atresia,” Mercy reiterated. “It is a congenital heart condition, meaning she’s had it since birth. Her heart didn’t form properly when developing inside you.”

“So wha’ does that mean?” Junkrat asked, agitated.

“In a normal heart, there are four chambers that pump the blood around the body,” Mercy explained. “With Tricuspid Atresia, the tricuspid valve, the wall between two of the heart chambers, is missing. Which means the heart isn’t pumping enough oxygen around the body, which is why she turned blue. She also likely has Atrial Septal Defect and Ventricular Septal Defect, those are holes in the heart basically.”

Mercy looked back at the Junkers to see if they were still following her. Junkrat didn’t appear to be listening at this point, appearing to be wrapped up in himself. She backtracked and asked the Junkers what they understood and what needed repeating. Afterwards, an uncomfortable silence fell over them.

“Would you like to ask me any questions?” She finally asked.

“‘S my fault, ain’t it,” said Junkrat, his voice quavering.

“Absolutely not,” stated Mercy.

“It is though,” Rat insisted. “I did things yer not supposed to do when ya got a bun in the oven; I didn’t eat right, I worked on me bombs, I didn’t see a doctor, I had spliffs, I even took E and coke, and got pissed.”

Both Roadhog and Mercy listened intently as Junkrat confessed all his wrongdoings.

“Shit! We were in the Outback not even a year ago!” Rat realised. “I ate fish from the river near Junkertown, that’s got radiation and all sorts of chemicals and shit in it! It’s all me fault. If I had just took better care of me self when I was up the duff, Trinket wouldn’t be lying in that thing there.”

There was stunned silence. Mercy couldn’t deny that yes, what he had done during his pregnancy was pretty bad. But considering how remorseful Junkrat was, she refused to hold judgment over him. As a doctor, that wasn’t her place.

“It’s okay, Jamison,” she said, her tone sympathetic. “Even if you did all those things, that doesn’t mean you caused her to have a heart defect. And even if it did, that doesn’t mean you meant to cause harm. You didn’t even know you were pregnant until your second trimester. I’m pretty sure your actions would have been different if you’d have known.”

“It don’t make me feel any better,” he muttered.

“What happens next?” Asked Roadhog.

Mercy braced herself. She knew Junkrat wasn’t going to like this.

“The only way to correct something like Tricuspid Atresia, is through a series of surgeries,” said Mercy.

“SURGERY?” Exclaimed Junkrat, leaping to his feet. “Oh no. You ain’t cuttin’ up me kid, not if I have any say-so!”

“Jamison,” said Mercy, treading delicately. Her tone of voice began to enrage Junkrat. “If Trinket doesn’t have surgery, her chances of survival won’t be good.”

“What are ya saying?” Demanded Junkrat.

“She could die, Jamison.”

Junkrat felt like he had been hit by a massive blast. Like the ground had collapsed from under him. He felt his own heart sink in his chest. It all felt surreal, the fact that he faced the very real prospect of losing his daughter. Like a dream, or nightmare rather.

“Yer not pulling me leg, are ya,” he said, flatly.

“No,” she confirmed.

Junkrat clenched his fists, hung his head in defeat, and swallowed a lump in his throat.

“Fine.”

“I will need to make some arrangements then,” said Mercy. “I cannot say when exactly the surgery will take place, as I will need to get in touch with a few contacts who specialise in cardiology. I’m sure some of them will be willing to help. In the meantime, Trinket will need to stay in the Med Bay. You as the parents are free to stay as long as you like, but other visitors will not be allowed so that Trinket doesn’t get a disease.”

She saw Roadhog trying to comfort the young Junker, who looked close to tears.

“Would you like me to leave?” Asked Mercy, sensing this was a private moment.

“Yes,” answered Roadhog.

Mercy got up and placed her chair back where she found it, then left. Confident she was gone, Junkrat broke down and wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you're wondering, a Spliff, E, and Coke are Aussie slang for Cannabis, Ecstasy, and Cocaine, respectively. Pissed, in this case means drunk.


	6. Building Hope (and Parenting Skills)

Alarms blared. The lights and screen on the heart monitor flashed red. The lines that read her tiny heartbeat went crazy. Heart failure, the doc called it. Her heart was failing. He looked on helplessly as the doc pressed two fingers down on her chest again and again while forcing air into her lungs, trying desperately to revive her. Suddenly, the alarms fell silent, the lights stopped flashing, and the lines went flat. All he could hear was one long continuous beep. His own heart stopped as he knew it could only mean one thing.

“Time of death, 10:45.”

The doctor turned around and gazed mournfully at him.

“I’m sorry.”

Junkrat awoke with a jolt. He stared up at the ceiling, breathing profusely and sweating up a storm. It took a while for him to figure out where he was. He was in bed, with Roadhog, in their room, in the Overwatch base. And Trinket? Where was Trinket? Ah yes, in the Med Bay. Was she okay? He had to know if she was okay. Junkrat turned over and reached for a tablet on the bedside table that Mercy had kindly given to them. He switched it on and to his relief, he saw his baby fast asleep in the incubator. Still critically ill, but alive. It had all just been a horrible nightmare. He watched the live feed of his baby, relaxing as he listened to the steady beeping of the heart monitor. He then felt Roadhog stirring next to him. Junkrat turned his gaze and saw Hog was awake, squinting at him in the light of the tablet.

“Eh heh… sorry, mate,” said Junkrat, putting the tablet away.

Roadhog sighed, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He gave Rat a concerned look.

“Just thought I’d make sure the doc weren’t doing nothing to our kid,” Junkrat said.

“That’s the twelfth time you’ve checked the feed,” said Roadhog.

“Well, I-er,” Rat stammered.

“Get some sleep,” Hog said, turning over.

Rat got out the tablet and continued watching his baby.

…

Mercy sipped her tenth cup of coffee as she sent out yet another email into the ether. So far, she had received two rejections and one acceptance. The rest had yet to reply. Unfortunately, one surgeon wouldn’t be nearly enough for something as complex as open heart surgery on a newborn, even with the help of AI. She checked the time. 4:30. God, was it really that late? She drummed her fingers on the mouse. At this point, she was willing to accept anyone with a medical license who was willing to put both their freedom and their reputation on the line. If it came down to it, she would have Trinket transferred to St Bernard’s Hospital. Either way, that child was going to get the surgery she needed. Even if it meant risking blowing Overwatch’s cover. Suddenly, a bell chimed, indicating a reply email. She instantly opened it, hoping for the best. As she read it, her face lit up. Not only had this ex-agent agreed to help, she was also a practicing cardiovascular surgeon. Not only that, she was willing to try and bring as many student surgeons, nurses, anaesthetists, technicians, and even a perfusionist with her as needed, though she wasn’t making any promises. Mercy would hug her if she wasn’t in another continent. As far as she was concerned, that heart surgeon was Trinket’s guardian angel.

…

With the press of a button, the lid of the incubator rose up and the sides folded down, exposing the newborn to the outside world. Junkrat approached her apprehensively, clutching a fresh nappy and a packet of baby wipes. Even though Trinket was sick, she still needed her parents to care for her basic needs like any other baby. Junkrat looked at the baby, then to Mercy and Roadhog, and back again. He had stolen the Crown Jewels from the Tower of London, robbed countless banks and museums, not to mention arcades. Yet for some reason, the idea of changing his daughter’s nappy was enough to make him nervous.

“What do I do?” Asked Junkrat, unsure.

“Take the old diaper off and dispose of it,” said Mercy. “Then gently wipe her down. Then put the new diaper on.”

Sounded simple enough. But Junkrat knew he would still fuck it up, just like he had fucked her up.

“Hey, Trinky,” said Junkrat, putting on a brave face. “How’s me little girl?”

Trinket looked up at him and cooed weakly, stirring at the sight of her father. Junkrat took great care as he removed the dirty nappy, making sure he didn’t disturb the tubes and wires. After disposing of the old nappy in a biohazard bag, he took a wipe and carefully wiped her down. He then fitted the clean nappy on her and fastened it. The whole process felt foreign to him. Finished, Junkrat stood back and looked over his work. Surprisingly, it wasn’t bad for a first attempt.

“Well done,” said Mercy. “Now, which one of you wants to feed her?”

She looked over at Roadhog. But he just folded his arms and slowly shook his head. They both eyed him, Junkrat with hurt, and Mercy with concern. It troubled her that he wasn’t willing to engage with the child. A baby could make or break a relationship, and that all depended on whether both parents were willing to work together and support one other.

“Oh, me, me!” Said Junkrat, enthusiastically, all traces of vex gone.

Mercy took him aside to teach him how to make formula, leaving Roadhog alone with the baby who wriggled and fussed now that Junkrat was gone. Seeing her lie there covered in wires and tubes revived a feeling Hog had tried to bury since leaving Junkertown, an overwhelming sense of guilt. It was his actions that ultimately caused this. His actions that had destroyed the Ominum and poisoned the land with radiation. And now his daughter was paying the price. If he had known what would happen years ago, he would never have attacked the Ominum. Roadhog looked up when he heard Mercy and Junkrat return with the formula. The doctor placed a chair next to the incubator.

“Sit down,” she told Junkrat.

Junkrat obeyed. Mercy then took the baby and placed her in her father’s arms.

“Hold her at an angle, and make sure to support the head,” she said, positioning the tubes and wires so they didn’t get caught or tangled in one another.

Junkrat tilted her upwards, holding her in the crook of his left arm, worried he might drop her. Mercy tucked a towel around the baby’s head and handed the bottle to Junkrat.

“Okay, now you want to hold the bottle at an angle, and place it to her mouth,” said Mercy.

Junkrat did as instructed. If took some encouragement, but after some persistence, Trinket reluctantly latched on and suckled.

“You’re a natural at this, Jamison,” Mercy praised him.

“I am?” Asked Junkrat.

“Yes,” Mercy confirmed.

“Ya hear that, Roadie? I’m a natural,” said Junkrat, beaming with confidence.

Roadhog said nothing in response.

“I have some good news,” said Mercy, sounding rather joyfull. “I have _hopefully_ managed to recruit enough people who are willing to operate on Trinket. I’m making arrangements to bring them _right here_ to Gibraltar. I should hope to arrange for the surgery to be performed by the end of this week.”

“This week?” Junkrat repeated, looking up nervously from feeding Trinket.

“Hopefully,” Mercy said. “The sooner we do it, the sooner she will recover.”

The logic made sense the more he thought about it. But it still didn’t make Junkrat any more at ease about the fact that his daughter was going to be cut open and messed with. He turned his attention back to the infant and saw that she had become sluggish and fatigued. Much like the time just before she turned blue.

“Doc? ‘S it normal for her to be this knackered?” Junkrat fretted, removing the unfinished bottle.

“For babies like her, yes,” confirmed Mercy. “It’s part her condition.“

Suddenly, she had an idea.

“Why don’t you go research Tricuspid Atresia after you finish cleaning and burping Trinket?” Mercy suggested. “There’s a lot of information out there. I could even recommended to you the best sources. I’m sure you’ll find a lot of it useful.”

“Yeah,” realised Junkrat. “Alright doc, we’ll do that!”

He then proceeded to wipe Trinket’s face with the towel.

…

That night, several hours were spent obsessively researching their daughter’s condition. They searched the various sites, pages, and blogs Mercy had recommended they look at before they had fallen down the rabbit hole. They mostly said the same thing, that Tricuspid Atresia was life threatening, yet treatable, that the survival rate after surgery was extremely high, and that those with it were living longer and fuller lives than ever. Some went into more detail than others. Some described what the surgeries entailed, others were more brief. Some were outdated, but most were based on the latest research. Some were geared towards parents, while others were research papers geared towards medical professionals. The Junkers read them all. Occasionally, Junkrat would ask Roadhog to read out various words he wasn’t familiar with. It wasn’t that he couldn’t read, but words like “cyanosis”, “ventricular” and “arteriousus” weren’t the easiest words to read or pronounce.

“D’ya think she’ll make it, Roadie?” Junkrat asked, clearly looking for reassurance.

Roadhog didn’t offer any. Instead, he sighed and turned away. This irritated Junkrat.

“It was a mistake to let you care for her,” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Junkrat demanded.

“Our protection isn’t guaranteed,” Roadhog explained. “We could be discovered and arrested at any time. We need a plan of escape in the event that it happens. We can’t have a kid on us, especially one as sick as she is. Even if she pulls through, there’s no point becoming attached to a baby we can’t keep.”

Junkrat leaped to his foot and peg leg, which he had thankfully forgotten to take off.

“Who says we can’t keep her?” Challenged Junkrat. “I made her, she’s mine!”

“No,” said Hog. “She’s ours, and she deserves a normal life, with someone who can give her a future.”

“We can give her that ourselves!” Retorted Junkrat. “We’ve got people who can fix her. We’re rich as kings. She’ll never want for nothing.”

“Even without her heart condition, she couldn’t handle the life of a Junker,” said Roadhog.

“We ain’t _in_ Junkertown no more,” Rat pointed out. “We’re in Overwatch. We’re heroes now. We save the world.”

“Even if we save the world, we’re still wanted criminals,” Roadhog responded. “The moment we’re seen, the cops will come after us.”

“The others will have our back!” Said Junkrat.

“You don’t know that,” answered Roadhog.

“Do too!”

“Stop being so childish.”

“Fuck you! I ain’t gettin’ rid of her!” Junkrat snapped.

“Do you even know how to care for a kid?” Hog snapped back. “Of course not, you can’t even take care of yourself. You’ve nearly got us arrested and killed several times with your reckless antics. You think you can care for her now? You couldn’t even properly care for her when she was inside you.”

That last sentence was like Roadhog had just slapped Junkrat across the face. For once he was lost for words. He gazed back at Roadhog like a wounded animal, a lump forming in his throat. He was _not_ about to cry in front of this bastard, not after what he just said. Junkrat turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Now alone, Roadhog buried his head in his hand, instantly regretting what he just said.

…

Junkrat half marched, half limped down the corridor towards the main lounge area. Hopefully there, he could sit alone and brood. But when he got there, he found it was already occupied. Great. Two people were sitting in front of a huge screen playing a video game. A racing one by the looks of it. A third sat in a chair quietly sipping tea. What were their names again? Diva, Lucy o, and Anna weren’t it?

“No fair! You cheated!” Exclaimed D.va, having lost the game.

“Did not,” joked Lúcio, whooping with glee.

Ana sensed someone else was in the room and turned to look. Her eyebrows rose when she saw who it was. The two gamers looked up when they saw Ana staring at the doorway.

“Oh, hey Junkrat!” Greeted D.va. “Great to see you! Didn’t know you were a night owl like us.”

Junkrat didn’t return the greeting. He just continued to scowl at nothing.

“Hey. You alright, man?” Lúcio asked, concerned. “Something eating ya?”

“He’s probably been tied up with the new baby,” reasoned D.va.

“Hey. Why don’t you sit with us?” Lúcio suggested.

Junkrat decided to take him up on his offer. He sat at the end of the sofa next to Lúcio.

“How’s things going?” Asked D.va, more subdued.

“Why d’ya wanna know?” Rat answered defensively.

“We’re just worried about you, man,” explained Lúcio. “I mean, what with the baby being sick and all, that must be rough going. We just wanna help any way we can.”

“…Suppose,” Junkrat mumbled.

“Hey,” D.va piped up. “Why don’t you tell us what’s bothering you? I mean, you don’t have to or anything, but I hear it makes people feel better.”

Junkrat swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Roadie wants us to get rid of it,” he said.

“What?” Said Lúcio.

“I said, Roadhog wants us to get rid of the kid.”

“You mean like, give her up for adoption?” Asked D.va.

“‘S that what it’s called?” Inquired Junkrat.

“And you don’t, I’m guessing,” said Lúcio.

“Course not! She’s mine!”

“Why did he say that?” Asked D.va.

“Said we wouldn’t be good parents cos we’re Junkers,” Rat explained.

“Well that’s a load of BS right there,” said Lúcio. “I’m not a parent, but I know that being a good parent has absolutely nothing to do with where you come from.”

“But what if he’s right?” Pressed Junkrat. “He’s right about most things.”

“Well then,” said Ana. “You’ll just have to prove him wrong.”

“Dunno how ta do that,” muttered Rat.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something,” D.va said. “We’ll even help you.”

“If I may,” said Ana. “I would like to give you some advice, from one parent to another. If you’re adamant about keeping your child, then you have to be prepared to make many sacrifices. Raising a child is no small task, they will demand everything of you for years to come. But that won’t mater in the end. You clearly love her, and I can tell you’d give the world to her if you could. Just be sure to never lose faith in yourself. God knows you’ll need it during times like these. But I can tell you’re strong. You’re handling it well, considering all you’ve been through already. It’ll all be worth it in the end. And try not to take what Roadhog said personally. He’s likely going through his own struggles right now. He’s a very quiet man, and I can imagine he has a hard time telling people how he really feels. If he has his doubts, then you both need to work through them, for your child’s sake.”

“Ya think so?” Asked Junkrat, growing hopeful.

“Oh, we know so!” Said D.va, earnestly.

“Just keep your chin up, Junkrat,” Ana encouraged him. “I’m sure it’ll turn out well in the end.”

“I’ll second that!” Said Lúcio, putting his arm around Junkrat and bringing him into a manly side hug.

Junkrat let out a lighthearted chuckle. But thoughts of the upcoming surgery still loomed over him like the Junker Queen’s influence over his hometown.

…

A few days later and it was the night before the surgery. Mercy had confirmed that it would take place the next day. The people who would operate on Trinket had already been flown in. Junkrat, Roadhog, and Mercy had a meeting with them about what the surgery would entail. Rat was on edge the whole way through. The first thing they would do they had explained, would be to perform something called a “Cardiac Catheterisation” before performing the actual surgery. The surgery itself would involve placing a shunt between two major blood vessels near the heart, the Aorta and the Pulmonary Artery. Most of the doctors, nurses, and surgeons it turned out, were just medical students, and for most of them, this would be their first open heart surgery. Something that didn’t bring much comfort to either Junkrat or Roadhog. The Junkers lay in bed, facing away from each other, unable to drift off to sleep. The affects of the argument they’d had a few days ago hung like a fog that wouldn’t lift, causing a rift between them. Junkrat had tried many times to get Roadhog to open up to him, with little success. Of course, admittedly, Rat didn’t always choose the most appropriate times to ask him. But if Hog couldn’t talk to his own partner and best mate about his problems, then what did that mean for them as a couple?

“She will make it, won’t she, Roadie?” Junkrat asked, suddenly.

Rat‘s heart sank as he was met with silence. He closed his eyes and sighed, trying even harder to sleep. That’s when he felt the bed shift and a huge arm wrapped itself around him, holding him firm. He felt the older Junker’s breath on him as he sighed.

“Hopefully,” Roadhog finally answered.

The Junkers lay awake all night, holding each other tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to Junk_Stuff for helping me edit this chapter & the last. You're a great help and I don't think my fic would be as well written without you.


	7. Open Hearts

The day of the surgery had finally arrived. The Med Bay was a flurry of activity, with the students, now all dressed in surgeon attire, hurrying this way and that, prepping the operating room for Trinket. Equipment had to be set up, and tools had to be sterilised before they could be used. The smell of bleach and disinfectant was overwhelming, threatening to make the Junkers gag. The atmosphere was enough to make anyone tense, but to Junkrat, it was as if he had walked into one of his worst nightmares. His heart raced as he stood guard over his daughter with Mercy and Roadhog, glaring at anyone else who dared look their way. They were soon, however, approached by one of the two legitimate doctors, the Anesthetist. A clear sign that the surgery was about to begin. The Junkers stood before their daughter, Roadhog blank behind his mask, and Junkrat fighting back tears and his instinct to fight off anyone he felt was trying to take her from him, as they bade her goodnight. After many reassurances, the Anesthetist injected a clear liquid into one of her IVs. They then watched as she began to fall deeper and deeper into unconsciousness. When they were certain she was under, the Anesthetist and the med students wheeled her off to operating room.

“Don’t worry” said Mercy, who also donned surgeon attire. “I’ll watch over her for you.”

She then disappeared into the operating room with them, leaving Junkrat and Roadhog alone in the Med Bay. With a defeated sigh, Junkrat slumped down onto the nearest chair, feeling like he had just sold his soul to the devil.

…

The waiting was the worst part. Junkrat hated waiting at the best of times – but _this_ , this was worse than waiting. He continued to sit uncharacteristically in silence, jigging his left leg, thinking about all of the horrible things they were doing to her. That he was letting them do. The thought made him sick.

Minutes ticked by. Then thirty. Then forty five. Then an hour. Then two. Then three.

Junkrat had resorted to pacing by this point. He couldn’t concentrate on anything except what was happening in the next room. He tried to listen out for something, anything. But no sound came through from the other side indicating whether the surgery was going well or not. He imagined Trinket with her chest cut open, her tiny heart exposed to the world. Did it hurt? Mercy had assured him that it wouldn’t until she woke up, but he couldn’t help but wonder.

Roadhog had since taken up residence in the chair Rat had sat in, feeling the regret and shame gnawing at his own chest as he watched his partner pace back and fourth. Junkrat looked absolutely exhausted. To see him worry this much about the kid was almost surreal. He had seen Junkrat anxious and possessive before, but this was different. In recent days, Junkrat had barely eaten, barely slept, and hardly socialised. He spent every waking hour with the kid, and obsessively watched her from the tablet when he wasn’t. He freaked out whenever any Omnic approached her; especially the one named Echo, whose job it was to care for her after dark. All of this stirred up feelings in Hog, feelings he had to push down as soon as they appeared. He refused to acknowledge them. He couldn’t.

“How long has it been?”

Roadhog snapped out of his thoughts and turned towards Junkrat, who had stopped pacing and now gazed at him with a glassy expression.

“Four hours. Give or take,” he answered.

“When d’ya think they’ll finish?” Asked Junkrat, his voice monotone.

“A few more hours,” said Hog.

Junkrat went back to pacing. Unable to stand it any longer, Roadhog got up and lumbered over to the corner of the room to get out another chair. He placed it next to his and motioned for Junkrat to sit. Not knowing what else to do, Junkrat sat down next to Hog. He glanced at the now empty incubator, hoping Trinket would just reappear in it, then towards the operating room where she now resided. Roadhog took his seat next to Rat and motioned him to speak.

“I talked to what’s-their-names a few days ago,” Junkrat said.

Roadhog gave him a confused look.

“After the fight. I talked to that bloke and that girl. The ones we met at the mess hall.”

It took Roadhog a few seconds to realise who he was talking about.

“There was another girl. An older one, the one who’s Pharaoh’s mum.”

Despite getting her name wrong, Roadhog was able to guess who he was referring to.

“She told me something” said Junkrat. “She said… what was it she said? Ah yeah. She said that, that you were going through yer own struggles, or something.”

Roadhog stiffened, which didn’t go amiss with Junkrat.

“‘S that true, Roadie?” He asked.

The tension in Hog didn’t let up, forcing him to look away. Rat’s eyes widened with revelation.

“It is!” He said.

This put things in a whole new perspective for Junkrat, which only made him angry.

“Why didn’t ya say something?” Demanded Rat. “Why did ya have ta take it out on me? Tellin’ me I can’t raise her! That it’s my fault she’s fucked up, like I don’t know that already. Ya could’ve told me, why didn’t ya? Ain’t I yer partner? Yer best mate? The love of yer life? Well, say something ya fat fuck!”

Roadhog continued averting his gaze. Despite the mask, he couldn’t hide it anymore. Sighing, he forced himself to face his partner.

“…I’m sorry,” he said.

“See? Ya can’t even – what?” Said Junkrat, puzzled.

“You’re right” said Roadhog, swallowing his pride. “I was wrong to blame you. In truth, I blame myself more. It just, hasn’t been easy these past few days.”

“Like that’s an excuse,” said Rat. “Not like I haven’t been going through the wringer meself. That ain’t all, is it?”

Hog shook his head.

“These past few days have… brought back memories,” he said. “Especially of them.”

“Who?”

“My home. My friends. My family.”

“You had those?” Said Junkrat, astonished.

He honestly couldn’t believe it. Of course Rat knew Roadhog would have had parents. But the fact that big, tough, Hoggy once had a family and friends other than him, was hard to fathom; especially for someone like Junkrat, who for a long time had been all alone in the world.

“I had four sisters and two brothers,” he said, smiling under his mask. “I was the oldest.”

Of course he would be, Rat thought.

“Did ya have a mum and dad?” Junkrat asked.

“Yes,” Hog confirmed. “Both married shortly after having me.”

“Didn’t know you were a literal bastard,” said Junkrat, giggling to himself.

Roadhog chuckled, then fell silent.

“What happened to ‘em?” Asked Junkrat, curious.

“They died,” said Hog, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah but, how?” Pressed Junkrat.

Roadhog let out a huge sigh before he continued.

“After the Ominum was destroyed, the people and animals started getting sick. At first it was just headaches, fevers, and nausea. But then people started bleeding, losing their hair, and many even got sores and burns. One by one, I watched then all die. My friends were first, since they were there when… _it_ happened. My parents were next. Given their age, they didn’t last long either. My brothers and sisters were the last to succumb to the radiation.“

Roadhog fell silent once more, looking down in thought. Junkrat didn’t know what to make of all this. The way Hog was acting was so unlike him. For him to talk as much as he had, to be so forthcoming about his life before Junkertown, but most bizarrely of all, to be open about his feelings. All of which was so un-Roadhog-like that the Roadhog sitting next to him might as well be some sort of anti-Roadhog. But something didn’t quite add up.

“What’s all this got ta do with Trinket?” Asked Junkrat.

Roadhog let out another sigh.

“She reminds me of my sister. My youngest sister,” he said. “Looks so much like her when she was a baby.”

Junkrat blinked in bewilderment. He knew that Trinket looked more like Roadhog than himself, but to look exactly like his sister? Now that was freaky.

“She was the last to go,” said Hog. “I remember holding her hand as she… as she lay dying. I had to bury them all myself.”

More silence.

“I can’t go through that again.”

Everything started slotting into place. It all made sense now. The distant stares, the refusal to look after her, wanting to give her up. He was scared of bonding with Trinket, in case he lost her like he lost his friends and family. Junkrat had been so wrapped up in himself that he had failed to see it. There had to be something he could do to make it better.

“The doc said, she wouldn’t cark it as long as she has the op,” he said, unsurely.

“If she survives,” said Roadhog.

Rat wasn’t very good at this. He was more used to being on the receiving end of these sorts of things than being the designated comforter.

“We’ll blow this whole place sky high if she don’t,” said Junkrat.

Roadhog chuckled. Junkrat grinned, having managed to cheer Hog up a little. He jumped up and plonked himself down on Roadhog, who responded by bringing him into an embrace. They stayed like that for a while, just holding one another while awaiting news of their daughter’s fate.

…

When Mercy finally exited the operating room, she found the two Junkers huddled together on the one chair. She did wonder how the chair hadn’t collapsed under their weight. They must be that well made, she thought. Upon realising she was in the room, the Junkers immediately stood up and faced her with bated breath. That’s when the Junkers noticed the smile growing on her lips.

“The surgery was a success,” she said, almost gleefully.

The Junkers let go of a breath they didn’t know they were holding. The surgery was a success. She was going to be okay.

“How is she?” Asked Roadhog.

“She’s still sedated, but stable,” said Mercy.

“I wanna see her!” Said Junkrat.

“You will soon,” Mercy said. “She’s still being stitched up at the moment, but they’ll bring her out as soon as possible.”

Great, Junkrat thought, more waiting.

…

Half an hour later, the doors opened and in came several med students and the Anaesthetist, all crowded around a familiar incubator. Junkrat instantly sprung up to be with her, only to be held back by Roadhog. It was only after they had parked Trinket in her usual corner did Hog give Junkrat the go ahead to see her. But when Junkrat reached Trinket, he almost screamed at the sight of her.

“What is this?” He shrieked. “What have ya done to her?”

Junkrat had only just grown used to seeing Trinket with tubes and wires sticking out of her. But to see _more_ of them, including a catheter in the side of her chest, was terrifying enough on its own. But that was nothing compared to the gruesome scene that was her chest. A huge slit ran down the centre, held together by stitches and transparent dressing. It was like something out of a horror film. Junkrat glared at the doctors and med students, demanding answers.

“Jamison!” Said Mercy. “It’s okay, it’s just where she’s had her surgery.”

Junkrat eyed Mercy with suspicion.

“Why does it look like that?” He demanded.

“That’s just what new stitches look like,” Mercy answered. “I know it looks gruesome right now, but they’ll look better with time. Trust me.”

Junkrat felt himself begin to relax upon hearing that explanation. Knowing that she wouldn’t always look like she had just been done in with a meat cleaver before being sewn back together was somewhat comforting. There was just one thing though.

“Why ain’t she woken up?” Asked Junkrat.

“I need to reverse the anaesthetic,” the Anaesthetist cautiously chimed in. “I can do it now if you like.”

“Yeah. You do that,” said Junkrat.

After the anaesthetic had been reversed, Junkrat waited impatiently for his daughter to wake. He constantly pestered the Anaesthetist as to when she would awake, only to be told the same thing; that unlike TV, it takes thirty minutes to an hour for general anaesthetic to wear off, meaning even more waiting. Eventually, after what to Rat felt like an eternity, the baby began to stir. Junkrat immediately snapped to attention, watching her with anticipation, feeling a wave of emotions as she woke. Still groggy from the anaesthetic, the baby began to fuss and look around in confusion. Then feeling the pain of the surgery, Trinket let out a pitiful cry. Overcome at the sight of his daughter in pain, Junkrat felt himself tear up with her. He stuck his hands through the holes of the incubator, holding her hand and stroking her head, letting her know he was there.

“Hey hey, shhh,” Rat whispered, feeling tears of relief run down his cheeks. “Yer gonna be fine. Yer gonna be okay.”

Despite her pain, Trinket’s crying died down to a whimper. She gazed up at Junkrat, acknowledging his presence. Rat smiled, blinking away tears as he continued to comfort his daughter.

“We can give her some painkillers to ease the pain if that’s okay with you,” one of the med students suggested.

“Yeah,” Junkrat croaked, nodding.

Roadhog watched as his partner soothed the infant girl. Seeing Junkrat being so nurturing was so bewildering to him. Of all the time he had spent with the young Junker, he had no idea he was capable of such tenderness. It touched something inside of Hog he thought had been snuffed out long ago, a sense of hope for the future. Maybe, just maybe, there was a possibility that they could keep the kid. Still, he had to be convinced that Junkrat was fully capable of caring for a child. But he was trying, he had to give him that.

“I should remind you that though Trinket is no longer at death’s door, she’s not out of the woods yet,” said Mercy. “She will need another surgery in a few months time.”

“Another one?” Junkrat repeated, not liking what he had just heard.

“I’m afraid so,” said Mercy.

Junkrat’s heart sank. The thought of putting his kid through another surgery when she was already in pain from the last one filled him with dismay. Suddenly, Junkrat heard Trinket fussing for him. Putting on a brave face, he turned his attention back to the baby.

…

Over in Barcelona, the two bounty hunters read through another article on their tablet. They had been scrolling through the news for days, trying to find anything related to their target’s whereabouts. For a while, it actually looked like the trail had gone cold. That was until the rumours started coming. Rumours surrounding the old Overwatch watchpoint in Gibraltar. Apparently, there had been signs of activity there, beyond the usual squatters that was. Stories of aircrafts coming in and out of the base. Not only that, but there had been several sightings of mercenaries performing Overwatch style missions in various parts of Europe. But what caught the bounty hunter’s attention was the fact that it was rumoured that among these mercenaries, were several wanted criminals. Including, but not limited to, the notorious McCree, and Roadhog. Of course, the bounty hunters scoffed at this at first. Why would Roadhog be without Junkrat? Those two stuck together like paper and glue. But as time went on, and the rumours started coming in thicker, the bounty hunters started to consider that maybe, there was some merit to them. They had nothing else to go one anyway, might as well take the leap of faith. So the next day, they packed their bags and boarded the a ferry to Gibraltar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long guys. I just hadn't been well the past few days, meaning I couldn't do any writing for that time. Hopefully though, this should make up for it.


	8. The British Are Coming

The next day came, and Trinket was already showing signs of improvement. She was a lot less sick and lethargic, and more active and alert. Although she was more fussy and clingy, thanks to a steady dose of morphine, she wasn’t in as much pain as when she came out of surgery. And though she was still on life support, Mercy had assured the Junkers that she would only spend a few more days in intensive care. The day she would leave the incubator and have all those ghastly tubes and wires removed, was a day that, to Junkrat, couldn’t come soon enough. He lay awake in bed, watching her from the tablet like he always did. It was now part of his nightly routine by this point. He would watch her until he either passed out, or until Roadhog forced him to put the tablet away. Junkrat suddenly felt Hog shift next to him. He glanced to see him lazily squinting at him through the light of the tablet.

“How is she?” He asked.

“She’s sleeping,” Rat answered, eyes glued to the screen.

“You should too,” said Hog, gently taking the tablet from him.

Junkrat was too tired to resist. Once the tablet was gone, Roadhog wrapped an arm around the young Junker, forcing him to lay back down. Unable to fight the fatigue anymore, Junkrat drifted off into limbo.

…

“ **Alert. I have intercepted a message from the British Armed Forces Gibraltar Squadron.** ” Athena announced. “ **The British Armed Forces are aware of our presence and plan to shut down all operations and arrest all members. Estimated arrival, twenty minutes. It is recommended all members evacuate as soon as possible.** ”

“Looks like the British are coming, folks,” McCree said over the intercom.

The whole team scrambled to load what they could onto the MV-261 Orca, the recently recommissioned aircraft of Overwatch. Everyone was in a state of panic as they all dashed about, grabbing what they could and loading it onto the aircraft. There was so much to load, there wasn’t enough time to tie down any heavy equipment or supplies before rushing to get the next lot. Junkrat and Mercy wheeled Trinket down the corridor, with Roadhog following behind, pushing his chopper with all of his and Rat’s things in the sidecar. The baby wriggled and fussed in her incubator, sensing something was different. Not just with the change of scenery, but with how the whole atmosphere had become tense. She didn’t like it, and wasn’t afraid to let others know. They were the last to reach the Orca. Once on board, Junkrat and Mercy parked the incubator near a row of seats, while Roadhog loaded his bike onto the aircraft. Mercy opened up the incubator, allowing Junkrat to take Trinket out and hold her to his chest. The tubes and wires hung from the infant, connecting her to the life support like an umbilical cord.

“Alright everyone, buckle up!” Ordered Tracer.

The ramps rose and everyone rushed to their seats, strapping themselves in and pulling down the restraints. Tracer and the Orca’s pilot, Ray, took to the cockpit.

“Any news, Athena?” Asked Tracer.

“ **I have detected a Royal Navy vessel off the coast, and two Royal Air Force fighter jets approaching,** ” Said Athena.

“ _Shit_ ,” Tracer hissed under her breath.

“Cleared for takeoff!” Ray said.

“Go for it!” Said Tracer.

“ **MV-261 Orca, cleared for takeoff, hangar 1.** ”

“Cleared for takeoff, hangar 1, MV-261 Orca!” said Ray.

Ray started up the engine. The Orca roared into life and began to lift itself off the ground. He forced the centre stick forward and the Orca took off, leaving the hangar and soaring out over the sea. The jolt made all the cargo shift slightly. Junkrat held Trinket close. The other passengers held on tight as they felt the force of the takeoff. Suddenly, two jets shot into view, gliding above them.

“Looks like we’ve got company!” Said Tracer.

One jet edged closer.

“ **I have received a message from one of the fighter jets,** ” said Athena. “Would you like to hear it?”

“Go on then,” said Tracer.

“Come in MV-261 Orca, this is the Royal Air Force,” came a voice over the intercom.

“Go ahead,” Tracer responded, her voice chipper.

“You are in British territory, and are conducting illegal operations in direct violation of the Petras Act. In accordance to the orders of His Majesty’s government, you are to be escorted to Gibraltar International Airport, where you’ll land this aircraft, surrender, and be taken into custody.”

“Well the whole being here illegally thing shouldn’t be a problem anymore, since we’re just leaving,” said Tracer. “I know that what we’re doing might be slightly illegal, but is all this really necessary? I mean, this must surely be costing the taxpayer a fortune. So how’s about you let us go, and we’ll all get out of your hair? Over and out!”

Tracer, Ray, and Athena fired up the engines and the Orca picked up speed. But the jets soon caught up, one coming to the upper left side of the aircraft and rocking its wings.

“Or not,” Tracer added.

“Come in MV-261 Orca,” the pilot said again, less friendly this time. “You are to follow my orders, or I am instructed by His Majesty’s government of the United Kingdom to warn you, that if you do not respond to my orders immediately, you will be shot down.”

“Er, could you repeat that?” asked Tracer, nervously.

“I said, that if you do not respond to my orders, I have been instructed to shoot you down,” the pilot said, sternly.

“They’re gonna shoot us?” Junkrat exclaimed from the cabin, causing Trinket to voice her upset.

Tracer and Ray looked at each other as they realised just how much danger they were all in. Suddenly, a trail of blinding lights burst out from the jet, forcing Ray to swerve, sending violet jolts throughout the aircraft. The cargo shifted about in the cabin. Roadhog held onto his daughter’s incubator to stop it rolling away. Trinket wailed.

“What was that?” Exclaimed Brigitte, reeling from the shock.

“Warning flares,” answered Pharah. “This is bad.”o

“This is your final warning,” said the fighter pilot. “Follow my orders, or be shot down.”

“We can’t!” Tracer replied. “Please, don’t shoot, we have an infant on board! Just let us go!”

Her pleas were met with silence. The jets began to fall back. Trinket continued crying. Everyone held their breath. Nothing.

“Well, that weren’t so bad!” Junkrat said, forcing a chuckle, and trying unsuccessfully to calm the whimpering baby.

That was when an alarm blared.

“ **Alert. I have detected an anti-aircraft missile closing in at seven o’clock,** ” announced Athena. “ **Estimated impact time, four minutes.** ”

“We’ve been spiked!” Said Ray, pushing the Orca to maximum speed.

He pulled up, hoping to dodge the missile. Everyone clung on tight as the aircraft pitched upwards. Roadhog held onto his daughter’s incubator, willing it to stay put. Junkrat clutched Trinket tight as she screamed in terror. The cargo began to slide backwards in the cabin. To ray and Tracer’s dismay, the missile followed them.

“Athena! Find out what that missile is!” Tracer shouted over the noise.

“ **Running diagnostics on missile.** ”

“Come in Royal Air Force, this is MV-261 Orca!” Tracer called out over the intercom. “Abort missile! I repeat, abort missile!”

There was no response. Ray banked sharply and the missile followed suit. He rose and dived, twisted and turned, released flares even. Nothing he did seemed to shake it off.

“ **I have identified the missile,** ” announced Athena. “ **The missile is a Beyond Visual Range Anti Aircraft Missile.** ”

“SHIT!” Ray yelled.

“What it it? What does that mean?” Junkrat shrieked.

“It means we’re almost certainly screwed,” said McCree. “BVRs are highly persistent bastards.”

“Come in Royal Air Force!” Tracer pleaded. “For Gods sake, there’s a child on board!”

Once again, her cries for mercy went unanswered. Ray blocked everything out. The only thing that existed to him were the Orca, and the missile. Once again, he banked and climbed. But that didn’t stop the missile from drawing nearer. The cargo veered around violently in the cabin, threatening to crush the passengers. Roadhog saw a container sliding towards them. Ripping off his restraints, Roadhog placed himself between the incubator and the oncoming crate. With one hand he halted it in its tracks, much to the relief of the others.

“Quick!” Barked Torbjörn. “Tie everything down!”

Everyone, barring Mercy, Junkrat, and Roadhog, scrambled to tie down the loose cargo. Through the violent tilts and turns, they shifted everything into the centre, using ratchet straps to hold everything in place.

“Athena, we could really do with some help here!” Said Tracer. “Are you able to hack the missile?”

“ **I may be an AI,** ” replied Athena. “ **But I am not a miracle worker. It is very likely that the codes to the missile are hidden behind several layers of encryption and security. All of whom will take time to bypass.** ”

Tracer’s hopes fell.

“ **I will, however, see what I can do.** ”

“I think it’s time we took matters into our own hands,” remarked Soldier.

“Agreed,” said Pharah, forcing open a crate containing her armour. “Help me put my armour on.”

Brigitte and Torbjörn hurriedly placed each piece of armour onto Pharah, starting with her feet, and ending with her helmet. Once fully clad, everyone rushed to strap themselves in again. The door was then opened and Pharah took off, leaving everyone waiting with baited breath.

Pharah soon caught up with the perusing missile. Keeping a safe enough distance, she immediately fired several rockets at it, hoping it would do something. However, most of them missed, flying off into the distance. The two that did hit however, didn’t even make a dent. Still keeping her distance, Pharah circled the missile, looking for a weak point. Was it the nose, or the thruster? Well the nose was off limits, since it was moving too fast for her to safely fire at it from the front. She flew behind the missile and readied herself. This wouldn’t be easy, since Pharah wasn’t used to shooting at fast moving targets, but for everyone’s sakes, she had to try.

“Rocket barrage, incoming!”

A hail of rockets emerged from Pharah’s armour and assaulted the missile. Many missed, but the ones that hit landed a fatal blow. The missile exploded in a ball of fire, sending a shockwave and debris in all directions. Thankfully for Pharah, neither did any damage. With the missile destroyed, she flew back to the Orca.

“ **Fighter jet AI, intercepted,** ” said Athena.

Suddenly, the fighter pilot saw every screen and hologram on the jet flicker or go static. He looked around, confused. He tried to find the Orca, with no luck. Failing that, he radioed his fighter controller.

“I’ve lost them sir,” said the pilot. “Can’t find them anywhere on radar.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Return to base,” the controller ordered.

“Wilco,” the pilot replied.

On the Orca’s radar, Tracer beamed as she saw both fighter jets bank and make to leave.

“We’ve lost them!” She called.

The whole cabin erupted in cheers and sighs of relief. Some of them clambered around Pharah, thanking her for saving them.

“Hey everyone,” announced Tracer. “Sorry for the bumpy ride back there. Just to let you know that we are now in international waters and heading north.”

Junkrat turned his attention to Trinket, trying to soothe her. He tried everything he could think of, but nothing he did seemed to calm her down. That’s when a large hand began stroking her head. Rat looked up to see Roadhog standing over the both of them. Almost immediately, the baby stopped crying.

“Heh, seems she likes ya,” Junkrat said with relief.

Roadhog said nothing. He just continued to stroke his daughter’s head. Mercy watched on, feeling a smile spread across her face. She hoped this meant Roadhog might start helping with the baby. Maybe even bond with her. But that would have to wait to be seen.

…

To say the bounty hunters were disheartened to see the base and the surrounding ocean crawling with British marines was an understatement. That could only mean one of two things; either the Junkers have fled, or they have been arrested. They both hoped it wasn’t the latter. Nonetheless, they would have to come back once the base was empty. Which meant more waiting. Cursing their luck, the bounty hunters turned their boat around and left before they could be spotted. They had come this far, they were not about to give up now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. SO sorry this one took so long. Hope it was worth the wait.


	9. Surprise!

_Practice Range Russia_

The new base of operations was a dreary, desolate, brutalist building that jutted out of a rocky cliff. Providing a stark contrast to the brilliantly white and blue mountainous landscape. But it was isolated, and relatively unknown. Hopefully, no one would think to look for them there. It had been a while since the old Overwatch members had been back to the old Training Range. For many, it was as if they were at the start of their career once more.

Athena had already been transferred to the base’s computer system, and was already giving orders and organising the team’s schedules. For the next few days, everyone was busy getting everything set up and making the place somewhat habitable. Everyone that was, except Junkrat and Roadhog. Unfortunately, because of the trauma of almost getting shot down over the Atlantic, their daughter, Trinket had to spend an extra day in the incubator for observation, much to the disappointment of Junkrat. The Junkers would sit by her everyday she was in that unnatural, sterile prison. With Junkrat holding her every chance he got, and talking much ado about nothing for hours.

As the days dragged by, they would visit her, sit with her, talk to her, play with her, and care for her, or at least try to. Until finally, _finally_ , Mercy gave the all clear for Trinket to be discharged. After unhooking her from all those hideous tubes and wires, excluding the one in her nose, Mercy handed over a bag containing nappies, formula, feeding bottles (sterilised of course), and liquid painkillers, and gave the Junkers instructions on how to administer the latter. Roadhog made sure to write everything down, he knew it would all go over Junkrat’s head. After everything was said and done, Rat took Trinket in his arms, holding her to his chest, and the three agents left the Med Bay for the Living Quarters.

…

The Junkers were taken aback by how dark the Living Room was compared to the hallway they had just come from. They saw dark silhouettes and could hear slight shuffling. Something was definitely amiss, and they didn’t like it. Was this some sort of ambush? Were the silhouettes there to hurt them and their baby? Suddenly, the lights came on, temporarily blinding them.

“SURPRISE!”

Junkrat and Roadhog blinked in bewilderment at what they saw. Every Overwatch agent (except the Omnics) stood before them, all dressed in casual party clothes, and holding what looked like presents. The Living Room itself was decked out in colourful ribbons and balloons, with a huge platter of party food in one corner, and two banners that said “(Belated) Congratulations Junkrat & Roadhog” and “Welcome Home Trinket” hanging side by side. For a while the Junkers just stood there, not sure what to make of it all. That’s when Lúcio and Dva stepped towards them.

“Hey guys, good to see you!” Said a cheerful Lúcio. “Bet you’re glad you don’t have to be in that stuffy Med Bay anymore, huh.”

“Bet you’re glad your baby no longer has to be in there as well,” said Dva.

The Junkers looked to the DJ and gamer, hoping for an answer.

“I know none of this makes up for what you’ve both been through,” said Lúcio. “But-“

“But by throwing a party,” Dva interrupted. “Maybe it will make things better.”

“Party?” Roadhog said, confused.

“Our party?” Asked Junkrat, hopefully.

“Yeah!” Said Lúcio. “You’ve had it rough the past few weeks. We all just want you to have something to celebrate for once.”

Junkrat’s face lit up with excitement. He always loved parties, he had never had one of his own thought, not a proper one. Any party he and Roadhog had was always a small affair. They were always quiet, basic, and never anything exciting. He was stoked. Bring on the party! Suddenly, Junkrat felt Trinket stir in his arms.

“Can we see her?” Asked Dva

“What?” Said Junkrat.

“The baby. Can we see her?” Dva reiterated.Junkrat felt his hold tighten on Trinket. What did they want to see her for? Were they going to try and take her from him? He then felt Roadhog’s hand rest on his shoulder. The way he did it felt as though he was trying to reassure him.

“Let them look,” he said.

His voice sounded so calm, so sure. Junkrat felt himself relax. He steadily tilted his daughter until he was cradling her in his arms instead of holding her upright. Everyone’s faces lit up when they got a good look at her. There was a chorus or delightful murmurs and coos from everyone in the room.

“She’s so cute!” Said Mei

“Aw, she’s adorable,” said Tracer.

“She’s a strong fighter,” Zarya commented.

“She certainly is,” agreed McCree.

“Well hello there,” Ana cooed to Trinket.

“Nice to meet you properly this time,” Said Dva.

“Well!” Announced Lúcio. “Let’s get this party started!”

…

The more the party went on, the more the Junkers liked being the centre of attention. Presents were given out, and food and drink were passed around. Junkrat eagerly tore off the wrapping paper, ecstatic that he was being given free stuff, but a little disappointed when most of said stuff turned out to be for the baby. Among the presents were; baby clothes, booties, toys, chews, baby hats, a baby gym, a pram, a Moses basket, a baby carrier, a baby rocker, a high chair, a baby bath tub, a baby car seat, and a potty. The last person to approach them with a gift was Mei. Mei had made it clear in the past that she didn’t like either them, particularly Junkrat, who she regarded as a bully and a terrorist. Nevertheless, she gave them a warm smile.

“I may not see eye to eye with you, Junkrat,” she said. “But what you and Roadhog have been through, I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. I hope this will bring you better luck in the future.”

She handed over a red envelope.

“Er, thanks mate,” said Junkrat, opening the envelope.

His face lit up. Inside was roughly two thousand Australian dollars.

“Hey, Roadie!” Junkrat held the money out towards Roadhog. “Look what Icicle just gave us!”

Mei’s warm smile instantly disappeared. Roadhog, who now held Trinket, grunted in approval. He then turned away and headed to the buffet with the baby in his arms.

All the time Junkrat was opening presents, it had occurred to Hog that this was the first time he had ever held the baby. He hadn’t even been paying attention to the gifts they had received. He just stared down at this tiny, helpless kid that didn’t show any fear towards him even though he could crush her in an instant. His kid. That was _his_ kid. Even now, it still didn’t feel real. A month ago, it had just been him and Rat. And now they had a baby to care for. A baby that, even now, was still very sick, and would have many surgeries in the future. But she was a fighter. She had been born fighting. And he couldn’t help but be proud of her for that. Once again, he peered down at the baby in his arms. The baby that looked so much like his youngest sister. Trinket looked up at him, her eyes full of curiosity towards the man with the strange face. Somewhere behind his mask, Roadhog allowed a smile to spread across his face. A smile he only ever made towards Junkrat, he now made to her. Would he make a good father? Roadhog wasn’t sure. But if Junkrat was willing to prove he could do it, then Roadhog couldn’t see why he couldn’t at least try. But still, it was hard to imagine how they would do it. They were still wanted criminals. Even more so now they had joined Overwatch. Hell, they didn’t even have somewhere for her to sleep.

“Alright people!” Brigitte announced. “It’s time to reveal the main surprise.”

The Junkers ears perked up.

“Surprise? Where?” Asked Junkrat, excited.

“It’s in your room,” answered Torbjörn. “Brigitte and I have been busy setting it up. Come. Come.”

They led the Junkers to their room and opened the door. The Junkers were stunned at what they saw inside. All the junk and metal scrap that once cluttered their room, had all been shifted to where Junkrat’s workshop was and fenced off with a safety fence. In the now clean space were several new pieces of furniture, including; a rocking chair, a changing table complete with storage, and a cot which had a mobile with wooden kangaroos.

“What do you think?” Asked Brigitte. “Papa and I have been working on it since you guys left.”

“Yeah. Took us hours to figure out the instructions on all of them,” Torbjörn commented.

A wave of emotions overcame the Junkers. And for once, Junkrat was lost for words.

“This is… this is, the nicest thing anyone’s done for us,” said Rat, choking back a sob.

As if on queue, Trinket let out a yawn and snuggled into her father’s chest.

“Looks like it’s time for her to rest,” said Ana. “And I would get some too if I were you. I will tell you right now, you’re going to need it.”

“Nah, no need,” replied Junkrat. “She’ll sleep like a baby.”

“Should we tell him?” Torbjörn asked Ana.

…

_Watchpoint Gibraltar_

The British Armed Forces had finally left the Watchpoint. And now, it was their turn to have a pry. Needless to say, the British military were very thorough in their investigation. They had taken everything. There were no computers, no equipment, no vehicles, no unopened crates, nothing. The base was completely ransacked. But that didn’t necessarily mean the trail had gone cold. Having tracked the Junkers for over a year and a half now, the bounty hunters knew how to spot the telltale sign of them. And it came in an unexpected form. An empty room in the married quarters that was cluttered with scrap and unfinished bombs, with the heavy scent of explosive chemicals in the air. They’d definitely been here alright. But it didn’t tell them where they were now. So they searched on.

After searching the rest of the living quarters and coming up empty, they came across the Med Bay. The bounty hunters figured it would probably be a decent place to search for more clues. After yanking the door open, and searching through what was left of the place, one of them by chance, came across a paper document. It was so well hidden that it was no wonder it hadn’t been found by the British military.

“Hey! I found something,” he said. “Might wanna check it out.”

“What is it?” The other bounty hunter hurried over to look at the other’s find.

“It’s a file on Junkrat,” the first one replied.

They read through the file.

“Ho-ly fuck!” Exclaimed the other bounty hunter. “This ain’t about Junkrat.”

“What d’ya mean?” Asked the first bounty hunter.

“It’s about their kid!”

“What?”

“They had a kid together,” the second bounty hunter clarified.

“What. As in, one of them gave birth?” The first bounty hunter inquired.

“That’s exactly what this document is saying!” The second one answered.

“Who? Junkrat?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly who it says had the kid,” the second one said.

Well, this was certainly news to them. And hopefully something they could use to their advantage.

When entering what they assumed was once some sort of laboratory, one of the hunters stepped on a crumpled piece of paper. They looked down and saw in was a world map. It had several dots on it, indicating other Watchpoints. Picking it up, they saw that one of the dots was circled in red. Bingo.

“Looks like we’re gonna need our coats for this next trip.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I’ve put Junkrat & Roadhog through so much shit, I thought I’d give them something nice for a change.


	10. What Is Normal?

“Time is money, friends - and we're almost flat broke! _ATTACK!_ ”

Junkrat charged at the oncoming group of rogue Omnics, firing his frag launcher and howling like a madman. Roadhog followed close behind, shielding Rat from any potential bullets or shrapnel. The rest of the team moved in to corral and eliminate the Omnics. The mission was simple; Stop the Omnics from reaching the outskirts of the city of Norilsk, and protect any and all civilians. They had used every non-lethal attempt to neutralise them, but nothing had worked. So much to Junkrat’s delight, it was his job along with Pharah to deal the final blow. About time he thought. He was fed up of being told what to do, where to shoot, where to go, how many bombs he could use and when. All for the sake of "strategy" and protecting walking scrap that didn’t deserve protecting. In all his time as a mercenary, he had never felt so restricted. Skidding to a halt, Rat grabbed his RIP-Tire from his back and readied it for action.

“FIRE IN THE HOLE!” he yelled, yanking the chain and letting go.

The tire raced towards the Omnics, just as a hail of rockets came hurling down upon them. A huge explosion shook the landscape and sent shrapnel flying everywhere. Everyone took cover where they stood. Roadhog placed himself between his partner and the flying shrapnel. When the smoke cleared, there was nothing left except a few scorched craters and potholes. Junkrat let out a triumphant cheer.

“Back to the scrap heap!” he jeered.

Apart from Roadhog and a few others, the rest of the team didn’t share Rat’s enthusiasm. There was a particularly solemn look on the Omnic called Bastion. Which was saying something, considering that it didn’t have a face. But Junkrat didn’t care. Finally, his first mission in Overwatch. And one where he got to kill some Omnics to boot. It was certainly a refreshing change from being stuck at the base all day, looking after a baby that would not, stop, crying, dear, _God!_

That night, the Junkers were awoken yet again by a wail coming from Trinket’s cot. Junkrat let out a frustrated groan.

“Ugh. Roadie, you deal with it,” he grumbled, turning over to go back to sleep.

“ No. It’s your turn,” Roadhog growled, yanking the covers from Junkrat.

Rat yelped at the shock of the cold. He frantically tried to claw the covers back over him but to no avail.

“No it ain’t!” he protested. “I did the last feed!”

“No. I did,” said Hog.

“C’mon Roadie, I’m knackered!” Rat whined.

“That makes two of us,” Roadhog snarked.

Growling in frustration, Junkrat dragged himself out of bed and over to Trinket. He glared at the screaming infant before reluctantly making up another bottle. This had been their routine for the past few weeks. After feeding, burping, and laying Trinket to rest, Junkrat crawled back into bed and dozed off. It didn’t take long to forget that in a few more hours, he would have to do it all over again. Ever since Trinket had been discharged from the Med Bay, it had been one big shock to the system. They hadn’t really appreciated just how much help they had been getting from Echo. Every few hours, day or night, Trinket would wake up and cry for something. Whether that was feeding, having her nappy changed, needing her painkillers, or literally anything else for that matter. Sometimes she would just cry for no apparent reason. The lack of sleep was the worst. Having to get up and lose precious hours of sleep was draining, to say the least. This often led to debates between the two of them as to whose turn it was to tend to her, usually leading to Roadhog forcing Junkrat out of bed whenever it actually was his turn. All this made them both less tolerant of each other. Though Trinket needed fewer painkillers as her chest healed, she still demanded Junkrat and Roadhog be subjected to her every whim. There was no such thing as downtime anymore. And who knew being tired and having a baby screaming in your ear would kill your sex life? Junkrat certainly didn’t. Not that he knew much about babies anyway. But still, when was she going to be able to start taking care of herself?

…

“Well, everything’s looking great so far. She seems to have healed quite nicely,” said Mercy as she examined Trinket. “I see she’s put on more weight as well. Very good! You two are doing a fine job.”

Junkrat and Roadhog barely registered the compliment. It was evident to her that they were both utterly sleep deprived. Particularly Junkrat, who Mercy could see had dark bags under his eyes that most likely wasn’t all soot. She just hoped they didn’t fall asleep on her.

“Basically, everything seems to be going smoothly,” Mercy continued. “Any questions?”

“Yeah,” said Junkrat. “When will we get at ‘ave a full nights sleep again?”

“Babies tend to start sleeping regularly at around four to six months. So, unfortunately, she’ll be keeping you up for a little while yet,” Mercy explained. 

This earned a frustrated groan from Junkrat.

“It’s not long though,” said Mercy. “It’s only a few more weeks away.”

“That's still too long!” Rat moaned. “And I hate waiting!”

As Mercy further examined Trinket, she began to feel unease at what she was seeing. Or wasn’t seeing, rather. Either way, something wasn’t right.

A few minutes later and Mercy had completed another monthly check-up. And thankfully, this one went without all the drama of the last one. She still had flashbacks of having to literally fight off Junkrat just to give Trinket her shots.

“What is it?” asked Junkrat, immediately sensing something was off.

The stern look as Mercy faced them did little to dispel that. She went and got out three chairs.

“Sit down,” said Mercy.

Junkrat and Roadhog sat.

“Can we talk about Trinket’s development?” said Mercy.

“What about it?” asked Junkrat, confused.

“Well, it’s just that I’m concerned,“ Mercy said. “She’s a few months old now, yet she still can’t do the things that most babies her age would be able to do by now.”

“Such as?” asked Roadhog.

“Such as lifting her own head, smiling, babbling or cooing, reaching for and grasping objects, her movements are also very sporadic. Basically, she still behaves much like a newborn.”

“Yer sayin' there’s something’ wrong?” Rat asked, worry growing in the pit of his stomach.

Mercy knew she needed to tread carefully.

“I’m not in a position to say for sure,” she said. “I’m just a medic, but I would like to refer Trinket for an assessment.”

“Ya mean more quacks?” Junkrat said, anxiously.

“I’m afraid so,” Mercy confirmed. “But I wouldn’t suggest it if she didn’t need it.”

Rat felt Hog rest his hand on his shoulder. He huffed, knowing she was right.

“Fine.”

…

After Mercy pulled a few strings, it wasn’t long before two people came to the base to see Trinket. A paediatrician and a child psychologist, Junkrat and Roadhog learned. Junkrat instantly became suspicious of them, not letting them anywhere near Trinket. Which made assessing her difficult, to say the least. Nonetheless, they looked at Trinket’s medical notes while asking Mercy and the Junkers loads of questions. A lot of which was quite personal. Junkrat and Roadhog had never felt so scrutinised, not even being interrogated by police felt this invasive. After an hour, the two doctors reached their conclusion.

“In terms of diagnosis, considering all we’ve seen and discussed,” the psychologist said. “It is our opinion that your child has Global Developmental Delay.”

Junkrat and Roadhog stared blankly at the doctors.

“What’s that?” Junkrat asked, baffled.

“It’s an umbrella term for children who are delayed in more than one milestone,” the paediatrician said. “In your child’s case, she is behind in at least three areas, including motor, speech, and cognitive.”

She will catch up though, right?" Rat asked, growing anxious.

“It isn’t unusual for children with GDD to later be diagnosed with intellectual disability when older,” the psychologist chimed in.

“Ya calling me kid stupid?” growled Junkrat, outraged.

“Jamison,” said Mercy, trying to keep the peace.

“N-no. We never said that!” the doctor stuttered, trying to maintain composure but was clearly intimidated by the two Junkers. “A-all we’re saying is that she has a lot of special needs.”

“What does this mean for her?” asked Roadhog, placing a hand on Junkrat.

“Your child may eventually catch up in some areas with therapy,” said the psychologist. “But she will almost certainly need lifelong support and care in every facet of life. She is unlikely to ever be fully independent as an adult.”

That last sentence hit Rat and Hog like a ten-ton truck. For a while, they both sat in silence, completely numb. Everything that had been said replayed in their minds. Trinket wasn’t just sick, she was handicapped. Severely so. She would never be able to take care of herself. Would always need looking after. Junkrat guessed he really had fucked her up more than he realised. Mercy and the other doctors looked around apprehensive, not sure what the Junkers would do or say next. Then Rat exploded.

“WHAT D’YA MEAN SHE’LL NEVER BE INDEPENDENT?” he yelled at the two doctors.

“Jamison!” Mercy exclaimed in shock.

Trinket immediately started crying. Junkrat didn’t flinch.

“WHO DO YA THINK YOU ARE, COMMIN' ‘ERE AN’ TELLIN’ US THAT LIKE YER SOME FUCKING FORTUNE TELLER?”

“Jamie,” Roadhog said. “Enough.”

“NO!” Screamed Junkrat. “HOW FUCKING DARE THEY! I’LL SEE TO IT THAT THEY GO BACK TO WHEREVER THEY CAME FROM IN PIECES! IT’LL BE CLOSED CASKETS FOR THE BOTH OF ‘EM!”

Trinket’s crying turned into wailing.

“Jamison, please,” Mercy pleaded.

Rat turned to her, seething with rage.

“I SHOULD NEVER ‘AVE TRUSTED YA!” he told her. “YOU’RE THE ONE WHO BROUGHT THESE CUNTS HERE! ALL YOU QUACKS ARE THE SAME! I SHOULD NEVER ‘AVE LET YA ANYWHERE NEAR TRINKET! I should never ‘ave… I should never…”

Junkrat’s vision blurred. No. He couldn’t let them see him break down. Unfortunately for him though, it was too late. The tears made tracks in his soot as they fell. Unable to save face, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Roadhog immediately got up and followed after him, leaving Mercy, Trinket, and the two doctors alone together.

Hog caught up with Rat and grabbed him by the shoulder. Junkrat yelped as he was forced to turn around and face his partner.

“Come back inside,” said Roadhog.

“No!” Junkrat spat. 

“You have to,” Hog insisted.

“Fuck you! I ain’t goin’ back in there!” Rat said, defiantly.

“What’s wrong?” asked Roadhog.

“Nothing,” Rat lied. “I’m fine.”

“No,” said Roadhog. “You’re not.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“Tell me what is wrong!”

The words were no longer a suggestion, but an order. Junkrat swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew there was no point trying to get out of this. When Roadhog gave an order, there was no saying no. So he told him.

“It’s my fault,” said Junkrat, avoiding eye contact.

“What is?”

“Trinket. She’s all fucked up because of me,” said Junkrat.

Roadhog urged him to continue.

“You were right, Roadie. We shoulda just gave her to someone else. I’m such a shitty parent. Couldn’t even treat her right while she was inside me.”

“You’re saying that because you’re scared,” said Roadhog.

“Yer right I’m scared,” admitted Junkrat. “I dunno how I’m gonna do this. I dunno where to begin. No one said it would be this hard.”

Roadhog was taken aback by this rare moment of honesty. But he knew Rat hadn’t told him everything.

“What else?” he pressed on.

Junkrat was silent for a moment, which was unlike him. Hog waited patiently for Rat to speak again.

“I know what it’s like,” he said. “Not bein’ all there and that. Makes ya an easy target. Ya see it all the time back home. People come and beat ya up and treat ya like shit ‘cos they can smell weakness a mile off. There’s no one to protect ya either, ‘cos no one wants ta be seen with ya. Ya hide any food ya have, otherwise they’ll take it off ya. Yer so defenceless that ya just hide away most of the time. What’s gonna happen to her, Roadie? She can’t protect herself.”

Roadhog pondered Junkrat’s question before responding.

“She has us,” was his answer.

It took a while for Junkrat to process Hog’s answer. When he did, he gave a hopeful smile.

“Yeah. Suppose she does.”

“Come on,” said Roadhog. “Let’s go back inside.”

“Lead the way,” said Junkrat, already beginning to cheer up.

…

Trinket had stopped crying by the time Junkrat and Roadhog re-entered the room. Mercy offered strong apologies on their behalf. Surprisingly, the doctors accepted it. After annoyingly explaining how it was normal to feel the way they did about the diagnosis, they explained to the Junkers what support was available to them. Most of it came in the form of therapy. Particularly one called Paediatric Occupational Therapy. The doctors went on to explain what it was and why they thought it would benefit Trinket. Junkrat and Roadhog only heard snippets of what they were saying though. Their thoughts were on the future that lay ahead. And knowing how uncertain it was.


	11. Lover's Spat

“Fuck, it’s cold!” one of the two bounty hunters said as they exited the airport and were met with the biting chill.

“It’s Russia. What d’you expect?” asked the other.

“Not this,” the first one replied, hugging himself.

“Well, we’re gonna have to get used to it.”

Getting to Russia had been nothing short of a nightmare for the two bounty hunters. Ever since the second Omnic Crisis had happened, getting a plane to Moscow had been almost impossible. Flight after flight had been cancelled for days, or even weeks on end as refugees flocked from the north and east for safety. The bounty hunters had passed by many of them in the lobby taking shelter from the cold. But they were here now. Finally.

“How far to this place?” The first one asked.

“Couple of days away by train,” the second replied.

The first bounty hunter sighed.

“We’ll need a miracle to get us there in that time.”

…

“Ow!” yelped Junkrat, practically leaping off of Roadhog’s shaft.

“Still painful?” asked Hog.

“Nah, yeah,” Rat admitted.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Fuck no!” replied Junkrat. “We ain’t had a root in months! The rug rat’s finally started sleepin’ properly. I’m not wasting this!”

With a sigh, Hog held Junkrat down and began thrusting into him again. Junkrat instantly began to wince and hiss in discomfort. Roadhog slowed his efforts.

“Keep _going_!” urged Junkrat.

Roadhog began to thrust harder.

“AH! No no, stop!” Rat groaned, clearly in pain.

Roadhog stopped, immediately releasing Junkrat. They both sat up, with Rat folding his arm and stump in a huff.

“‘S not fair! Why’s it still gotta hurt?” Junkrat whined. “Ever since I popped the brat out, everythin’s weird and heavy down there. And it smarts too, ‘specially when we try and fuck!”

“But you’ve healed,” said Roadhog, confused.

“Still hurts though,” Junkrat replied. “Don’t wanna even know what me bits look like now. Bet they’re all mangled and shit. What we gonna do, Roadie? We’ll never have sex again at this rate!”

This was the second time the Junkers had tried to be intimate with one another since Trinket had been born. Both of them assumed that after Junkrat had given birth, their way of doing things in the bedroom would go back to how they used to be. But evidently, no such luck.

Roadhog thought for a moment.

“Why not bring this up with Angela?” he suggested

“And ‘ave her pokin’ and proddin’ at me privy parts? Fuck no!” Rat answered.

“She could help you,” Roadhog insisted. “Otherwise, we may not be able to fuck each other for a while.”

Junkrat let out a frustrated groan.

“Alright! I’ll go if it makes ya happy,” he grumbled.

“Tomorrow. After Trinket’s therapy,” Hog added.

Junkrat glared at him.

“ _Fine_.”

…

Mercy brought the Junkers and Trinket into a room that had been set up for the therapy. There, they were introduced to an overly friendly woman called Dr. Nguyen, who was revealed to be the child therapist. Junkrat was instantly suspicious of her. After being asked more invasive questions, and made to fill in a lengthy form (a task mostly left to Roadhog), the therapy was ready to begin. There was just one problem, however.

“Mr. Fawkes, please let me spend some time with Trinket. I promise I’ll give her back,” the therapist pleaded.

“If ya think I’m lettin’ ya near me kid, you’re sorely mistaken, mate!” Junkrat replied, holding Trinket tighter.

“But… how am I supposed to help her if you won’t let me near her?” asked Dr. Nguyen.

“Who said you were gonna help her?” retorted Junkrat. “That’s me and Roadie’s job!”

“Jamison,” Mercy interjected. “Let Dr. Nguyen see Trinket. She knows what she’s doing.”

“No, no,” Dr. Nguyen said. “If they want to do it themselves, they’re more than welcome to. I’ll just sit and guide you from the sidelines.”

Junkrat was instructed to set Trinket down a mat. He and Roadhog sat down next to her. Around them were an array of toys that the therapist had set out. Okay, now what? Junkrat looked to Roadhog, who in turn looked to the two doctors sitting in the corner.

“Try to get her interested in a toy,” said Dr. Nguyen.

Junkrat grabbed the toy nearest to him, which appeared to be a tube with brightly coloured beads inside. Some kind of musical instrument perhaps? Curiously, he examined the toy before turning back to Trinket.

“Here, Trinky!” he said, showing it to her. “Look at this!”

He tipped it one way, then the other. At least, that’s what it looked like he should be doing with it. The noise it made as the beads tumbled from one side to the other sounded like heavy rain during a monsoon. Trinket looked at the toy curiously, but didn’t try to interact with it. Junkrat turned to Roadhog, disappointed nothing had happened. Roadhog reached for another toy. A small pachimari. He squeaked and shook the toy above Trinket’s head, making the bell inside chime. Trinket kicked out in response. Though a little jealous, Junkrat beamed.

As the therapy went on, Junkrat and Roadhog really got into their roles. It didn’t even feel like therapy anymore. It felt more like they were just spending quality time together as a family. Just Junkrat, Roadhog, and Trinket, and no one else. With the input of Mercy and Dr. Nguyen, they carefully manoeuvred Trinket to various different positions expected for her age. Sitting her up and rolling her onto her stomach. They even tried to get her to stand to see what would happen. She wasn’t very good at any of them, however. Her head would flop and loll about on her neck, her legs buckled when held upright, and her arms flailed about uselessly. But the Junkers didn’t mind. Each moment was precious to them. They were having such a good time in fact, they didn’t even notice when it came time for Junkrat’s appointment with Mercy. Needless to say, they were disappointed when Mercy and Dr. Nguyen announced the end of the session. Before leaving, the doctor cleaned up the toys she had brought and gave the Junkers the time of their next appointment. It was now Junkrat’s turn to be the patient. Something he was not looking forward to.

…

“Okay, Jamison. Now if you could just put your legs in the stirrups,” Mercy instructed.

unkrat glared at her, but did what he was told. Not even an hour after Trinket’s occupational therapy and he was already lying on an examination table, legs spread, with nothing but a white hospital gown to cover up his genitals.

“Good,” said Mercy. “Now, I’m just going to have a little look and see what the problem is.”

Rat‘s eyes widened when he heard the snapping of latex gloves. He looked worriedly towards Roadhog, who in return placed a hand comfortingly on his shoulder. Junkrat then froze as he felt Mercy’s hands on him.

“Does this hurt?” asked Mercy.

“Feels bloody weird,” answered Junkrat.

“That’s quite a normal reaction,” said Mercy. “Now, I’m just going to insert this speculum inside you,” she explained, holding up a strange metal contraption for him to see. “Just tell me if you feel any pain or discomfort.”

“A wha-AH! Fucking hell, that’s cold!” Junkrat shrieked, almost leaping off the table.

“I’m sorry, Jamison,” Mercy responded, calmly. “I probably should’ve warned you beforehand.”

“Ya bloody right ya should’a!” Junkrat growled in annoyance.

“Have you been experiencing any incontinence at all?” Mercy inquired.

“What?” Junkrat asked, feeling the awkwardness of the situation.

“Have you been having any trouble with controlling when you go to the toilet?”

“It hurt to piss and shit for a few days,” said Junkrat. “But I haven’t pissed meself so far.”

Rat let out a nervous giggle.

“Hmm,” Mercy seemed to grow more confused the more she looked. She got Junkrat to cough and squeeze his pelvic muscles. The latter of which caused him much discomfort. ”Okay. I’m now going to insert my hand,” she said, removing the speculum. “Again, let me know if it’s uncomfortable or painful.”

Junkrat felt his whole body clench as a familiar intense pain flared up.

“Ow ow, stop!” Junkrat yelped, trying to get away from Mercy.

Mercy stopped immediately.

“I think I know what the problem is,” she said, pulling her gloves off. “You seem to have what’s called a pelvic organ prolapse.”

“What’s that?” asked Junkrat, taking his legs out of the stirrups.

“A pelvic organ prolapse is where the lower organs slip down from their normal position,” explained Mercy. “Basically, you have a weakened pelvic floor. That’s the muscle in your pelvis that holds the bladder and other organs in place.”

Junkrat looked at her, perplexed.

“Because you had a difficult birth, your pelvic floor was put under a lot of strain. Meaning your organs don’t have as much support as they used to.”

“Does that mean me organs are gonna fall out?” Junkrat asked, nervously.

“No,” said Mercy, slightly amused. “It just means you need to strengthen your pelvic muscles again.”

“How do we do that?” asked Roadhog.

“Well, luckily for you, you have a range of treatment options available,” said Mercy. “But, since it’s thankfully not too serious, it’s not likely necessary for you to have surgery.”

Junkrat sighed with relief at that.

“My advice would be that you either have a pessarie inserted to add support.”

Rat grimaced at that suggestion.

“Or, you can practice pelvic floor exercises.”

“What’s that then?” asked Junkrat.

“Just squeeze the pelvic muscles ten to fifteen times in a row,” said Mercy. “Once you get used to doing it, you can try to hold it for a few seconds each time. After a few months, you should start to notice a difference.”

“That’s it?” said Junkrat, hopping off the table.

“Pretty much,” Mercy answered. “Oh. Just to let you know, Trinket’s next surgery is due soon.”

Junkrat froze.

“S-soon?” he reiterated.

“Yes,” Mercy confirmed.

“How soon?” inquired Roadhog.

“Sometime in the next few weeks,” said Mercy. “I’m in the process of making the arrangements. I’ll let you know when a date is set.”

“Heh, yeah, right. Aces,” Junkrat said, forcing a smile.

…

As the day wore on, it became clear to everyone that Junkrat was unhappy. His usual cheerful and extroverted demeanour was replaced with a weary and bitter disposition. He hardly wanted to talk to anyone no matter how much others tried to interact with him. And would snap at anyone who asked what was wrong. Eventually, everyone just gave up and learned to avoid him. This was especially troubling for Roadhog, who had to take the brunt of the outbursts. It pained him to see his partner like this. To see him so sullen. The reason was obvious of course, but Hog knew he had to wait until the day was over and everyone had retired for the night before he could press Rat on the matter.

…

After putting Trinket to bed and the Junkers had gone to bed themselves, Roadhog asked the question.

“How do you feel about the surgery?”

For a while there was silence.

“Fine,” Junkrat grumbled, staring at Trinket lying asleep in her cot.

“No, you’re not,” said Roadhog. “I know when you’re lying, Jamie.”

“What does it matter how I feel?” Junkrat spat. “‘S not like it’ll make much difference.”

“It matters because you’ve been a miserable fuck all day,” Hog replied. “It’s clearly bothering you, so tell me how you feel.”

“You don’t tell me what to do!” Rat retorted. “You don’t know what I’m going through!”

“Then _tell_ me so I that I _can_ know,” urged Roadhog, growing annoyed with his partner.

“There ain’t no fucking point!” Junkrat snapped. “Either way they’re gonna take Trinket away and cut her up again and again, and there ain’t nothing we can do about it!”

“Talking about it will make it easier,” Hog tried to reason with him.

“Don’t ya get it ya lump of lard?” said Junkrat. “Nothing’s gonna make it easy! It’ll _never_ get fucking easy! Why the _fuck_ would you even think it would?”

“I’m trying to help you,” Roadhog responded, frustratedly.

“Nah you ain’t,” snarled Junkrat. “You’re just trying ta order me around like all the other cunts round here! Everyone’s always telling me what ta do, even you! You’re no better than them!”

“So me trying to help you makes me controlling now, does it?” Hog snarked, offended by the accusation.

“YEAH!” Rat yelled. “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT MAKES YA! I’M THE ONE IN CHARGE HERE! ME! YOU’RE JUST THE BODYGUARD! YOU DO WHATEVER I TELL YA!”

Suddenly, a cry sounded from Trinket’s cot.

“NOW LOOK WHAT YA MADE ME DO!” Junkrat lashed out.

“Oh, so I’m the one who threw a temper tantrum like a child and woke her up!” barked Roadhog.

“YER THE ONE WHO STARTED ALL THIS SHIT!” Rat shouted.

Trinket’s wailing grew louder.

“YER THE ONE WHO WANTED ME TA TALK ABOUT ME FEELINGS LIKE THAT WILL MAKE EVERYTHING ALRIGHT! WELL NEWSFLASH HOGGY, IT WON’T!”

“YOU THINK IT’S BEEN EASY FOR EITHER OF US?” Hog bellowed. “YOU THINK IT’S BEEN EASY HAVING TO COMFORT YOU, WHILE ALSO HAVING TO TAKE WHATEVER CRAP YOU GIVE ME IN RETURN?”

Trinket’s wails turned into screams.

“Y’know what? Fuck this, fuck all of it!” said Junkrat, throwing up his arm and stump. “I never wanted any of this anyway! If I’d have known any of this shit would happen, I would’ve chosen the slammer a long time ago! No need to worry about the brat that way! She’d be someone else’s problem!”

This enraged Roadhog.

“And I should’ve just left you to get the shit kicked out of you back in Junkertown,” he responded, coldly.

That did it. Junkrat attached his arm and leg and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Roadhog sighed, then got up to comfort his infant daughter. Outside, Junkrat slumped against the wall and buried his head in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Oh god. How long has it been? Two months? Wow. Long time. Some of you probably know why I've been away so long, but for those of you who aren't in the know, let me explain myself. There's no easy way for me to say this, but my father passed away from cancer just two months ago as of writing this note. I'm still devastated about it. And as you could probably tell, I had to take some time away from everything just to greive his loss. But rest assured, I'm back now, and am ready to start writing this fic again. No matter what, I'm not ever giving up on this fic. I shall be seeing it through to the end. Thank you for being patient with me on this, and for sticking by me. I hope this chapter was worth the wait.


	12. Unexpected

The bounty hunters hugged themselves tight, trying to fight off the icy chill. They both stood on the deck of a fishing boat, looking out over the frigid sea. As the boat moved up and down with the waves, it churned up the vodka that they’d had earlier, making them seasick. It had been another few weeks of them trying to navigate the country that was Russia. Reliable transport was hard to come by since the start of the second Omnic Crisis. Luckily however, money talks. It was amazing what dangers people were willing to put themselves in if you payed them enough. Which was how they had come to find themselves on an old fishing boat, crossing the arctic sea towards eastern Siberia.

“Enjoying the view?” came a voice from the boat’s cabin.

The bounty hunters turned and saw one of the fishermen poking his head out.

“Not exactly,” one of the bounty hunters responded. “Just needed some fresh air.”

“Well then, let me join you,” said the fisherman, donning some warmer layers before joining them. “Do you smoke?” he asked, opening a pack of cigarettes.

“Er… no. Thanks,” they said, bemused.

It was certainly rare to see real cigarettes in this day and age. What with the stigma and the various non-carcinogenic alternatives on offer. The bounty hunters watched as the fisherman lit up and took a long drag.

“Things are getting worse,” the fisherman lamented. “The Omnics are heading closer to Moscow everyday. Of course the government downplays how serious it is, but when desperate families beg you to ferry them across the arctic sea, you know. You just know.”

“Then why do you keep coming back out here?” asked the other bounty hunter.

“The hope of a good catch,” the fisherman replied, flicking what was left of his cigarette overboard. “Even when there’s a war on, life goes on.”

The fisherman headed back towards the cabin. The bounty hunters turned their attention back to the watery horizon, steely determination in their eyes. The fisherman’s words whirling around in their heads. A good catch. That was exactly what they were hoping for.

…

As the sun filtered through the window, Roadhog slowly roused from slumber. His eyes lazily moved around the room, taking in the serene atmosphere. Everything was calm, peaceful, and quiet. Quiet? An uneasy feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. Roadhog would usually have been woken up by now. Either by Trinket, or by Junkrat. That’s when he realised that the space beside him where Junkrat usually lay felt empty. Roadhog turned his head and saw a sunken void where his partner should be. He looked over to Trinket’s cot, hoping to see Rat tending to her. But all he saw was the infant fast asleep, with no Junkrat beside her. Now Roadhog was starting to worry. Something clearly wasn’t right. He bolted up and surveyed the room for any sign of the mad bomber. That’s when he heard an unpleasant sound coming from the bathroom. It was a sickening sound that could only be someone vomiting. Roadhog hauled himself out of bed and made his way over to the bathroom. He opened the door to see Junkrat slumped in front of the toilet, dry heaving before expelling more stomach contents. Once Junkrat had finished throwing up, he rested his head on the toilet seat, groaning and grasping his stomach. Roadhog gave a slight cough, announcing his presence. Junkrat snapped around wide-eyed, like he was a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Clearly, Roadhog wasn’t meant to see this. Nonetheless, he was taken aback at Rat’s appearance. Junkrat looked terrible. He was very pale, which only served to eventuate the dark bags under his eyes. It looked as if he had been there for some time. Rat forced a nervous grin, bile dripping from his mouth. No blood though. That was a good sign, at least.

“Heh, morning Roadie,” Junkrat quavered.

“Have you been there all night?” asked Roadhog.

“Nah,” said Junkrat. “Just most of it.”

He immediately started retching again. Junkrat whipped his head back over the bowl and resumed puking his guts out. Roadhog just stood there, watching on in both worry and confusion. Why was Junkrat so sick? Immediately, Hog’s first thought was radiation sickness, or something pertaining to it. But that didn’t make any sense. It had been over a year since they had been in Oz. And radiation sickness took weeks to develop, at most. Was there a bug going around, or something? No one else seemed to have come down with anything. Then it occurred to him that Junkrat had been acting rather strange as of late. Constantly sleeping in late, and not being his usual energetic self. Eating more than usual, but being fussy with what he ate. Roadhog had always put it down to how demanding caring for Trinket was. But this. This wasn’t the first time he had seen Rat in this state. They had only attempted intimacy twice since Trinket had been born. Was that enough?

“How long have you been sick?” Hog demanded.

“Er… few days?” Junkrat answered.

“How long is a few days?”

He could see Junkrat wracking his brain for clues.

“Since two weeks ago. I think,” he finally said. “Must be the radiation wafting its way from Oz.”

Roadhog wasn’t so sure.

…

This strange behaviour went on for another two days. When he wasn’t caring for Trinket, Junkrat was spending most of his time hurling in the bathroom. Or dozing off next to Roadhog. And when Rat wasn’t doing either, he was constantly stuffing his face. And the mood swings didn’t go amiss either. He even burst into tears at one point. It didn’t take long for others to notice something was up.

…

“Are you sure you have enough there?” D.va commented one morning, eying his tray of food. “Anyone would think you’re eating for two.”

Junkrat choked and spluttered, thumping his chest to clear his congested windpipe.

“Dunno what gave ya that idea, mate,” he coughed. “Not like me and Roadie have been fucking much lately.”

Looking up from spoon feeding Trinket, Roadhog rolled his eyes at that remark.

“Well, that’s a lot of food for someone who doesn’t usually eat an awful lot,” Lúcio interjected.

Junkrat stared down at his gargantuan tray. Indeed, it was big enough to rival Roadhog’s. Junkrat gave a timid chuckle.

“Er… I, wanna… build more muscle?” he offered.

“With that many carbs?” inquiried D.va.

“Er… yeah!” said Rat.

Suddenly, Junkrat clasped his mouth and stomach, retching violently. With a sigh, Roadhog reached for a bucket he had been keeping under his chair and passed it to him. Junkrat grabbed the bucket and loudly vomited into it. D.va and Lúcio eyed each other uneasily. Everyone turned and looked at him, their faces contorting with various levels of disgust.

“Suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore,” said Zarya, taking her tray to the bin.

“Yeah, same,” agreed Tracer, following not far behind.

Winston wrinkled his nose. Everyone kept staring at the Junkers. Roadhog sensed it was their time to leave.

…

Once in their room, Roadhog turned and faced Junkrat. Still holding Trinket, he scrutinised Rat through his mask. Junkrat glared back defiantly, not saying a thing. In the end, it was Roadhog who broke the silence.

“Jamie, are you pre-“

“Well!” Junkrat cut in. “That was a real interesting morning. Weren’t it, Roadie! I dunno about you, but I’m putting in a complaint to whoever cooks the food ‘round here. What do they think they’re playing at, feedin’ us poisoned grub like that? Coulda poisoned little Trinky there. I bet ya the food’s rotten. Would explain why it all tastes weird.”

“Jamie!” Hog barked, immediately silencing Rat. “Are you pregnant?”

Roadhog saw a flash of fear cross Junkrat’s face. But as soon as it appeared, it was gone.

“Pfft. Not likely,” he said, blowing it off. “I mean, we ain’t done it properly in forever. Not like it can ever happen when ya don’t fully come in someone, right? Right?”

That last part sounded almost like pleading. Roadhog didn’t say anything.

“ **Attention all agents,** ” blared Athena. “ **Omnics have been sighted near Vorkuta, Russia. It is our job to stop them before anyone gets hurt. The following agents are required for this mission: Tracer, Ana, Roadhog, Orisa, Lúcio, Junkrat.** ”

The hairs on the back of Roadhog’s neck stood up. There was no way he wanted Junkrat to fight. There had to be a way to get him pulled from the mission. But without a solid reason, Hog knew there wasn’t much he could do.

“Well!” said Junkrat, grabbing his frag launcher. “Time to scrap some bots!”

…

The MV-261 Orca touched down on the outskirts of Vorkuta, providing a stark contrast to the decaying town. As the ramp lowered, the agents got a good look at the grim and decrepit buildings. The ex-gulag hadn’t changed since the last part of the twentieth century. Looking at it was like gazing into the past. A past marred by suffering, hardship, and forced labour. The town looked deserted. No doubt the residents who could leave, did so before the Omnics arrived. Those that couldn’t, were likely in hiding.

“I’m gonna scout ahead,” Tracer said, before zipping off into the desolate concrete jungle.

“ **I will simulate our upcoming mission to identify all possible outcomes,** ” Orisa announced, clambering off the Orca.

“Oi, Roadie!” said Junkrat. “Get a load of this dump.”

“You’re tellin’ me!” Lúcio chimed in.

Roadhog didn’t say anything, but he had to agree. The place somehow looked even worse than Junkertown. The rest of the team exited the Orca.

“I’ll be watching your backs, but be careful out there,” said Ana, falling back and heading to higher ground.

The team made their way towards the nearest apartment block, and began skulking their way through the town. An eerie fog blanketed the landscape, making it difficult to see where the enemy was. Everyone, barring Junkrat, was on high alert. Even Lúcio had his sonic amplifier on its lowest setting. But no one was on edge more so than Roadhog. He kept a close eye on Junkrat, watching for any sign that he needed protecting. Junkrat in the other hand, was twitching with excitement. He tittered to himself, practically wishing the Omnics would show themselves.

“Hey, Ana,” Lúcio whispered, patching into the communication network. “Vision’s pretty poor down here. You see anything?”

“Negative,” Ana responded. “Seems like the Omnics know we’re here.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” said Lúcio.

They were about to make it past the second apartment building when a blast of thunder shattered the silence.

“What the bloody hell was that?” exclaimed Junkrat.

“I dunno,” answered Lúcio. “But it don’t sound good.”

Suddenly, a figure materialised into existence. Everyone aimed their weapons, ready to defend themselves. But their shock was quickly met with relief when they saw who it was.

“Lena, don’t scare us like that!” said Lúcio.

But Tracer didn’t acknowledge his remarks. She just ran past, eyes wild with fright. The team’s relief soon turned to that of unease.

“Er… Lena? Is the coast clear?” asked Lúcio.

“FAR FROM IT!” yelled Tracer.

All of a sudden, the ground where Tracer once stood exploded, sending debris flying everywhere. Orisa immediately deployed her barrier, shielding her teammates from the blast. That was when the Omnics appeared. Most of them where humanoid in shape. But some of them were absolutely monstrous in both size and look. Some even towered over Roadhog. Upon seeing the agents, the Omnics charged, firing their weapons at them. Orisa and Roadhog immediately began shooting at them, trying to force them back. Seeing all the chaos unfold, Junkrat shook with glee, grinning from ear to ear. This was what he lived for. Chaos and destruction.

“Let’s send these bots back to the scrap heap!” Junkrat proclaimed, before firing his frag launcher, howling like a madman.

The rest of the team joined suit, with Ana sedating any Omnic that got too close for comfort, Tracer zipping through the hoard of Omnics and picking off the weaker ones, Orisa replenishing her barrier as soon as the old one failed, and Lúcio playing Rejuvenescência to keep everyone’s spirits up while fighting.

Junkrat was having such a good time, he was about to throw caution to the wind and charge into the fray. But that was when he began to feel a familiar nauseous sensation growing in the pit of his stomach. No, he thought. He was not going to look weak in front of his team because of some stupid food poisoning. Not when he could be made to leave the mission. Junkrat forced the nausea down. But try as he might, the need to vomit only grew stronger with each passing minute. Junkrat was about to unleash his rip-tyre when he felt bile rise up in his throat. He turned to Roadhog, who strangely enough hadn’t left his side the entire time.

“Er… g-gimme a moment, will ya, mate?” Junkrat pleaded.

Roadhog didn’t have time to object before Junkrat left to hide in a doorway. Once there, he immediately threw up. Suddenly, Rat‘s vision blurred. His head throbbed and his eyelids began drooping. Junkrat began to sway as dizziness and confusion took over. The ringing in his ears wasn’t helping either. He put his hand out to lean on the doorframe in an attempt to steady himself. But soon, drowsiness took hold of Junkrat. As he slid to the floor, Rat could hear the sounds of gunfire in the distance.

It wasn’t until Roadhog had killed a rather hulking Omnic that was as tall as he was, that he realised Junkrat had been gone an awful long time. Too long in fact. Something wasn’t right. Roadhog turned and lumbered through the battle towards where he saw Rat retreat to earlier. He found Junkrat slumped in a doorway, sitting in a puddle of his own vomit.

“Jamie!” Roadhog called out to him.

Junkrat only groaned in response, continuously slipping in and out of consciousness. Despite being covered with soot, he looked deathly pale. Roadhog knew then, he had to act. For whatever reason, Junkrat was no longer able to fight. This made him vulnerable. Roadhog had to get him to safety before the Omnics found them.

“Roadhog!” Tracer yelled over the comms. “Where are you and Junkrat?”

“Junkrat’s down!” Roadhog responded.

“Is he injured?” asked Lúcio.

“No. He’s-"

Several gunshots rang out right behind them. A couple of energy beams struck Hog in the back. Flinching, he spun around and saw several Omnics had managed to sneak up behind them. Roadhog placed himself in front of Junkrat and whipped out his hook. With his hogdrogen at the ready – he wrangled the Omnics in one by one, finishing them off with his scrap gun. When every one was eliminated, he grabbed Junkrat and ran in the direction of the Orca.

“Hey big guy!” Tracer almost seemed to plead. “The mission’s in jeopardy! We could really use your help!”

Roadhog ignored her.

“Lena,” Ana said, sternly. “The mission is comprised. It’s time we all retreated.”

“No!” Tracer responded desperately. “We can still do this! We can still help the people trapped here!”

“We’ll be no use to them dead!” Lúcio interjected.

Tracer hated to admit it, but he was right. They would have no choice but to come back for the people trapped in the town.

“Okay. Everyone retreat!”

The whole team ran to where the Orca had touched down and scrambled on board. The Orca then took off, leaving the desperate remaining people of Vorkuta to the mercy of the rogue Omnics.

…

By the time they got back to the base, Junkrat had regained consciousness, much to Roadhog’s relief. Needless to say, everyone was livid with the Junkers. But especially with Junkrat. His fainting, and Roadhog’s stunt had cost them the mission. Not to mention had likely cost the lives of the very people they were trying to save. Which led to the both of them getting lectured at by none other than the big boss herself. What was her name? Sojourn, or something like that.

“Do you have _any_ idea what you two have done?” Sojourn continued. “What you did could have compromised the whole objective that Overwatch has set out to do! Now those people are gonna have to wait longer before they get any help at all! All because of you. I should never have sent you both on that mission. Clearly I overestimated your capabilities.”

Junkrat just yawned in response. This only made Sojourn seethe.

“ _You_ ,” she said, pointing at Junkrat.

“What?” Rat replied, not having taken the lecture seriously.

Sojourn gestured towards Mercy who was standing off to the side of her.

“I want you to go and get checked over by Dr. Ziegler.”

A flash of fear crossed Junkrat’s face.

“ _Oh_ no!” Rat said, shaking his head defiantly. “I ain’t letting that quack near me for no one! Not after last time.”

“Then I’m afraid I’m gonna have to suspend you from any future missions until you do,” Sojourn responded, nonchalantly.

Junkrat loudly growled in frustration. He left with Roadhog and Mercy to be lead to the Med Bay. Sojourn watched as they left. If she wanted him to go see the stupid doctor, then he would do it. If only so he could fight alongside his partner.

…

Junkrat could take being literally poked and prodded by Mercy. Having stuff hooked up to him, and the like. But when she announced that she had to take blood from him, Junkrat was having none of it.

“No!” He shrieked. “You ain’t sticking no needles in me!”

In the end, it took Roadhog reminding him of what Sojourn had said earlier to get him to cooperate. Junkrat had yelped as the needle went in.

Just a few minutes later, and Mercy was back with the results.

“You seem to be anaemic,” said Mercy.

“What’s that mean?” asked Junkrat.

“You have what’s called Iron-deficiency anemia. Your body doesn’t have enough iron in the blood, basically,” Mercy explained.

“What do we do about it?” asked Roadhog.

“I’m going to put you on an iron supplement and see if that will help,” said Mercy. “I would also recommend you up your intake of meat, eggs, and dairy.

“So, wait. That’s it?” said Junkrat.

“Not quite,” said Mercy.

The Junkers urged her to go on.

“I detected quite a bit of hCG levels in your blood,” Mercy continued.

The Junkers looked at her, confused.

“HCG is a hormone that is only present when produced by a fetal placenta.”

“What ya saying?” asked Junkrat, not liking where this was going.

“That you’re very likely pregnant,” said Mercy.

For a while, there was stunned silence. Mercy could feel the tension in the room.

“I take it this is probably a bit unexpected,” she said. “If you need any-"

Suddenly, Junkrat burst into fits of laughter, taking both Roadhog and Mercy by surprise.

“Nice one doc,” Junkrat said, giggling with relief. “Had me fooled there, ya did. Must say, didn’t take ya to be much of a joker like meself."

“I’m not joking, Jamison,” Mercy said, more warily this time. “I wouldn’t joke about something like this. I did the tests. You are at least eight weeks along.”

“‘Course you are,” Junkrat insisted, desperation evident in his voice. “Ya have to be! Not like I can barely care for another baby when the one I have got is sick and can’t do some stuff.”

“Jamie,” Roadhog interjected.

Junkrat ignored him and continued.

“I mean, I fucked up with her. Who’s to say I won’t fuck up again with this one, right?”

He let out a forced chuckle.

“And what if this kid‘s got all Trinket’s problems, huh? That would mean _two_ sick kids to take care of. Real hard work, that.”

Junkrat began hyperventilating.

“Jamie.”

“This can’t be happening,” Rat concluded. “I can’t ‘ave another baby. I can’t even make ‘em come out healthy. Why is this happening? Why is this happening now?”

Junkrat hugged himself into a fetal position, rocking back and fourth as the weight of the situation sunk in.

Pregnant.

He was pregnant.

Again.

How? How was that even possible? He and Roadhog hadn’t had proper sex since Trinket was born. How was it that a few painful bonking sessions where none of them even got to come, would put Rat in the family way again?

Junkrat flinched as he felt one of Roadhog’s big sturdy hands on his shoulder. He wanted to cry. He wanted to weep into Roadhog’s large chest and be told that everything will be okay. But since Mercy was in the room, he held back the tears of dismay.

“I take it this is a huge shock for you,” Mercy said, sympathetically.

“Ya think?” Junkrat growled, glaring at her.

“You don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to,” Roadhog suggested.

“Not if it means surgery,” Rat quavered.

“If you wish to terminate,” Mercy interjected. “You could have a medical abortion, rather than a surgical one.”

Junkrat’s ears perked up.

“Go on,” said Roadhog.

“The medical abortion goes as follows. You will be given two pills to take. Each, twenty-four to forty-eight hours apart. Once you take them, the termination should happen in a matter of hours. No surgery necessary.”

At that, Junkrat relaxed a little. It seemed simple enough. Take a couple of pills, and voila! No more baby.

“Can I have ‘em now?” he begged.

“I’m afraid I can’t do anything until I know you’ve stopped panicking,” Mercy said. “Not least because you have a big decision to make. And there are procedures that must be done to make a termination as safe as possible, should you go down that route. Once you are calm, and over the shock, we can discuss your opinions.”

Junkrat hated Mercy now more than ever. She had the way out of the situation he was in, yet she was going to make him wait for it? He hated waiting, she knew that. This was clearly just a way to torment him further. But at the same time, there was also a twinge of doubt in the back of his mind. It kept asking if he really wanted to go through with this? What a stupid question, Junkrat thought. Of course he wanted to go through with it! Then why was he having such nagging doubts?

Sensing his frustration and confusion, Mercy gave a nervous cough and took out her tablet. Junkrat noticed it was the same tablet that had been given to him when Trinket was under her care. He knew because there was a crack down the side where he had accidentally dropped it.

“I shall open up some websites for you to read about all the opinions available to you,” Mercy said as she tapped away on the tablet. “Whatever decision you come to, it is imperative you let me know so I can help you as best I can.”

Junkrat took the tablet and looked at the myriad of websites on the screen. He looked up at Roadhog for reassurance, then back to Mercy. His face softened. Rat had to admit, it was very thoughtful of her. Maybe she really did care about him and Roadhog. Maybe.

“Thanks, mate,” he said, giving a goofy yet half hearted smile.

“It’s okay,” Mercy responded. “I’m just doing my job.”

…

Junkrat spent the whole day conflicted with himself. Did he want to keep the kid, or did he not? He had been so certain that he didn’t want it at first. But now the shock had died down, he wasn’t so sure. On the one hand, it was hard enough caring for Trinket already. Another baby would only mean more work. And his fears about this baby having all of Trinket’s problems weren’t exactly unfounded. He hadn’t been looking after himself lately. Staying up half the night to work on his bombs behind Roadhog’s back, fighting omnics, using explosives in battle, not to mention that his body hadn’t fully recovered from his last pregnancy. On the other hand however, it was his kid. “His” being the key word here. Getting rid of it would mean giving up something that belonged to him. An idea that didn’t sit right with Junkrat, for some reason. It wasn’t as if he and Roadhog were still barely scraping by in the wastelands of the Australian Outback. They had food and shelter guaranteed, so long as they pulled their weight. Overwatch was definitely a much friendlier place than Junkertown. They had also made friends. Friends who were willing to help out with babysitting whenever the Junkers needed it. Providing much welcome breaks to Rat and Hog. They were also rich beyond their wildest dreams. Even the Queen of Junkertown would be envious of them. Like Trinket, this kid would have only the very best that money could buy. It would never go without, or go hungry. That was, if Junkrat decided to keep it.

Later on, and everyone had gathered in the mess hall for their evening meal. And this time, it was Junkrat’s turn to feed Trinket. Despite her age, Trinket was still unable to hold her own head up. Meaning she had to be fed in her car seat. Luckily for Rat however, neither he nor Roadhog had to make up Trinket’s food. That was all done by whoever’s turn it was to cook for everyone else. All he had to do was strap Trinket in, put a bib around her neck, then feed her whatever muck was made up for her that day. Her “food” if you could even call it that, looked highly unappetising. Which was saying something coming from Junkrat, who would gladly have eaten it himself if he was still living in Oz. Tentatively, Junkrat scooped up some of the puréed baby food and slowly lowered it towards Trinket’s mouth.

“Hey, Trinky,” Junkrat cooed to her. “Grub’s up.”

Trinket accepted the food right away. She wasn’t a fussy baby, which was something to be thankful of, apparently. Junkrat had fed Trinket solid food before. But it was still something he wasn’t entirely confident in doing. Rat always worried about her choking, or being sick, or him screwing it up somehow. Since when did he worry this much about someone else? He never worried about Roadhog to this extent. Before long, Trinket was turning her head away from the spoon. A clear sign she was full. At least, that’s what he had learned from past feeds. Junkrat put the bowl aside and began wiping her down. As he did so, Trinket reached out and tried to grasp the cloth, thinking it was a toy.

“Oi!” said Junkrat. “That’s mine!”

But for some reason, he didn’t yank it away from her. Trinket brought the cloth to her mouth and started chewing on it. Junkrat watched in curiosity. This was like one of her therapy sessions, he thought. That was when Rat got an idea. He took the other end of the cloth and raised it in front of her head.

“Surprise!” he exclaimed, dropping the cloth covering Trinket’s face.

Trinket’s eyes widened for a split second, not sure what had just happened. Then she burst into fits of giggles. Junkrat soon followed suit. Everyone in the room turned and looked at them, perplexed. But neither Junkrat nor Trinket noticed. Suddenly, Junkrat stopped. He looked down at his smiling daughter. Smiling. Trinket was smiling. And laughing. She’d never done that before. Junkrat felt pride well up inside him at the realisation, Trinket had finally hit a milestone. Trinket, who never used do anything except shit and puke and sleep and cry and be needy, was _smiling_ and _laughing_. Rat couldn’t believe it. She was, however slowly, finally starting to grow up. It was then, Junkrat came to realise something. Even though having a baby had meant having to give up so much, not just their life of crime, the world just made sense ever since Trinket had come into their lives. No matter how much he would never admit it out loud, he loved this kid. Loved her more than he was prepared to admit out loud. All Junkrat wanted was to do right by her. Sure, he wasn’t the best father in the world. And half the time, he didn’t have a clue what he was doing. But for her sake, he would do it. If only so she could have a better life than he did as a kid. His thoughts soon turned to the other baby. The one growing inside him. What if Rat did keep it? Would he feel the same way about it?

…

That night after Trinket had been put to bed, the Junkers were about to retire themselves when a question came from Roadhog out of the blue.

“How do you feel?”

“‘Bout what?” Junkrat returned the question with a question.

“About today,” Roadhog said.

Rat pondered the question for a minute.

“Dunno. Can’t describe it,” was his answer. “I mean, it’s all just been one shitty thing after another.”

“Hmm.”

“I dunno,” Junkrat continued. “I mean, it’s hard enough with Trinket’s surgery coming up and all that. And now I have to deal with this other kid as well.”

“How do you feel about the surgery?”

Junkrat again, thought over the question.

“Scared,” he confessed.

Roadhog nodded, urging him to continue.

“Like… I don’t want her to have the surgery,” Rat said. “But I know she’ll die if we don’t. But it’s like… what if something goes wrong, Roadie?”

“She’s in good hands,” Roadhog said. “Angela is a good doctor. She’ll make sure Trinket survives.”

Junkrat nodded, only slightly convinced.

“Do ya feel any different?” Junkrat suddenly asked, hesitation in his voice.

Roadhog gave him a puzzled look.

“About us,” Rat clarified. “I mean, we’ve had a baby, I’m up the duff again, and now we can’t fuck like we used to. Does it… make ya not love me as much?”

Roadhog gave a wheezing chuckle. Who knew Junkrat would be insecure about something like that?

“Of course not,” he said. “A few months without fucking and no sleep is hardly the worst thing we’ve been through together.”

Junkrat appeared to relax at this.

“It’s been difficult,” Hog admitted. “And a huge adjustment to make. A new life, a kid, a sick one at that, with perhaps another on the way.”

At that, Junkrat glanced down at his stomach. He wasn’t showing. Not yet at least.

“Have you made a decision?” asked Roadhog.

Junkrat went quiet for what felt like an eternity.

“I wanna keep it,” he finally said.

“Hm?” Roadhog responded in surprise.

“I wanna keep it,” Junkrat repeated.

“Any reason?” Hog inquired.

“Yeah! It’s mine! Ain’t that reason enough?” Rat snapped.

Roadhog shrugged. It was as good a reason as any, he supposed.

“You do know what that means, don’t you? Means even more hard work,” he said.

“Yeah? And?” said Junkrat, defiant.

“So, we’re having another baby,” Hog confirmed.

Rat leaned into his hulking partner and wrapped his arm and stump around his arm.

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! They gonna have another baby!
> 
> I know this took a long time, but I was really struggling with this chapter. Luckily, I have amazing beta readers who are willing to help me out when I get stuck, & I really want to thank them here. This chapter was very long, & I hope it's worth the read & wait.


	13. Baby Snatchers

The old fishing boat made its way up the frozen river, forcing its way through the ice. The bounty hunters stood on deck, looking at the map they had acquired from Watchpoint Gibraltar. If the map was correct, then this base must be where they were right now. But there was no sign of any buildings. Great. They had been tricked. There was no base, and Junkrat and Roadhog were probably on the other side of the world right now, mocking them. Then they saw it. Odd concrete and metallic shapes jutting out of a cliff. Bingo.

“Alright, this is our stop!” one of the bounty hunters called out to the fishermen.

The fishermen looked at them in confusion.

“Here?” one of them questioned.

“Yep, just drop us off over there,” the bounty hunter pointed towards the building.

“Okay,” the fisherman said, warily.

The boat stopped to allow the bounty hunters to get off. They thanked the fishermen before trekking over the ice in the direction of the base.

…

Roadhog was the first to wake up. Something he still found odd since it was usually Junkrat that was the first to awake. Hog couldn’t blame him though. Rat had been up all night with terrible morning sickness, so it was only natural that he would need to catch up on sleep. Roadhog watched Junkrat rest for a bit. He looked so serene, so peaceful. Like he hadn’t been up all night puking his guts out. Roadhog then heard Trinket coo in her cot. As quietly as he possibly could, Roadhog got up to tend to her.

…

The base loomed over the bounty hunters like a slumbering beast, causing them to feel small and insignificant in comparison. From what they could see, there were platforms, a balcony, and some railings. Perfect. The bounty hunters took out some rope and grappling hooks. After spinning them, the bounty hunters threw the ropes as high as they could. The hooks caught the railing and the bounty hunters tugged to make sure they were secure.

“Ladies first,” one of them said.

The other returned the gesture with a playful smirk before beginning the climb.

…

“Hey, Junkrat!” Greeted D.va as the Junkers and Trinket joined her and Lúcio at the table. “So is it true?”

“What?” asked Junkrat, confused.

“That you’re having another baby,” she clarified.

Junkrat tensed.

“There’s been a few rumours going around and stuff,” said Lúcio.

“So are you?” asked D.va.

“Got a problem with it, mate?” Junkrat growled.

“Oh my god! Congratulations!” D.va exclaimed.

This took Junkrat by surprise. Even though he had been with Overwatch for nearly a year now, his mind still thought he was back in Junkertown. People being genuinely nice was still alien to him. Junkrat gave an uneasy smile, accepting the praise.

“Heh. Thanks, mate.”

…

There was a hiss and a sputter as the second security camera died. The bounty hunters came out from around the corner into the area the camera had previously kept an eye on. One placed a device on the door control panel while the other kept watch. The bounty hunter hooked a few wires to the panel and pressed a few buttons. The door opened. The bounty hunters made their way inside.

…

“ **Winston?** ” Athena blared through the walls.

“Yeah?” the gorilla replied from his computer.

“ **I am detecting an anomaly in the security system. Certain cameras and censors have been malfunctioning, but I am unable to run diagnostics. Could you send someone out to manually check what is wrong?** ”

“Sure,” Winston answered, patching into the intercom. “Tracer.”

“Yeah, big guy?” the plucky Brit replied.

“A few cameras have malfunctioned,” said Winston. “Could you go check it out? Make sure it’s nothing serious.”

“Can’t Athena do it?” asked Tracer.

“No. Her sensors are down as well,” Winston said.

“Hmm. That is odd,” Tracer commented. “Well, I’m on my way!”

…

It was Trinket’s Occupational Therapy, and Junkrat was dangling a set of plastic keys over his daughter’s head. The infant stretched her arms out to them, trying her best to grasp the toy just out of reach. That was when Trinket began to raise her head slightly. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable. But both Junkrat and Roadhog saw it. Junkrat picked Trinket up and held her above his head.

“That’s me girl!” he cheered.

Trinket smiled and giggled in response.

…

As Tracer made her way through the corridors, she came across her first downed camera.

“What?” she exclaimed, confused with what she saw. “Winston,” Tracer whispered over the comms.

“What is it?” Winston replied, noting the serious tone in her voice.

“I see the problem” said Tracer. “It looks like the camera’s been fried.”

“Fried?”

“Yeah. As in something fried the circuits.”

“What are you saying?” Winston asked, his voice solemn.

“Either the security is destroying itself, or we have an intruder-“

Tracer suddenly yelped as four hands grabbed and pinned her against the wall. She kicked and writhed and struggled, trying to free herself. To punch her attackers. To reach for her guns. _Anything_.

“Lena! Lena! What’s wrong?” Winston shouted on the other end.

But before Tracer could reply, one of the hands clamped a piece of cloth over her nose and mouth. A cloth that had a very potent and chemically smell. Tracer upon realising what her attackers intent was, fought with animalistic vigour. But the edges of her vision were growing dark. Tracer did her absolute best to stay awake. But try as she might, the blackness eventually enveloped her.

Once unconscious, the bounty hunters helped Tracer to the floor, propping her up against the wall. They didn’t want to kill her. Too messy. Besides, whoever was on the other end of the comms already had good reason to sound the alarm. They had to move quickly. Especially since they no longer had the element of surprise in their favour.

…

In the married quarters, the Junkers and Trinket were having time to themselves. Doing their own thing while simply being in each other’s company. Junkrat was tinkering at his workshop, while Roadhog was cleaning his scrap gun. Trinket meanwhile, was fast asleep in her rocker.

“ **Alert!** ” The voice of Athena blared out of the blue, making Junkrat almost jump out of his skin. “ **Intruders have infiltrated the base. Agent Tracer is unresponsive. May need medical assistance. All available agents are required to find the intruders and agent Tracer. The following agents that are exempt from duties until further notice are: Torbjörn, Winston, Junkrat.** ”

“What!” exclaimed Junkrat. “That’s not fair!”

…

The bounty hunters found themselves in the living quarters. They could tell by the carpeted floor and the various chairs, sofas, and smart TV. Not to mention the coffee machine. And it was likely the adjourning doors led to the sleeping quarters. They reckoned it was as good a place to start as any. Sleeping quarters tended to have personal belongings in them, which could give them a clue to where the Junkers might be in the building. Judging by the evidence they had found back in Gibraltar, it was likely the Junkers were in the married quarters. The married quarters weren’t hard to find. It was the only door not clearly marked as male or female. The door led into a corridor with adjacent doors down each side. And in one room, a commotion could be heard. The bounty hunters closed in on the door where the muffled row was coming from.

…

“Please, Roadie,” Junkrat pleaded. “I wanna come with ya!”

“No,” Roadhog asserted.

“Why not?” demanded Junkrat.

“You’re pregnant,” said Roadhog.

“ _So?_ ”

“You want this kid, don’t you?” asked Roadhog. “You want it to be healthy, right?”

“Yeah, but… but…” Junkrat stammered as he floundered for the right words.

“So, for the kid’s sake, it won’t kill you to stay out of trouble for once.”

“Oh come on! I don’t wanna be stuck here on me own with the rug-rat!”

“ _No!_ ”

…

The bounty hunters listened intently from the other side of the door, hearts pumping full of adrenaline. They had found their targets. All that was left to do was to go in for the kill. There was just one problem.

“We need to get them out of their room,” the first bounty hunter said.

“Can’t we just jump them here?” the second bounty hunter asked.

“No,” the first one replied. “They likely got weapons and bombs in there. We’ll be cornered like rats. We gotta lure them out to where we have the advantage.”

Suddenly the door opened. The bounty hunters immediately pressed themselves against the door.

“Roadie come on,” came Junkrat’s voice more clearly. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

A deep sigh sounded from Roadhog.

“I said _no_ ,” the larger man said.

 

The bounty hunters peered into the room. They were relieved to see Roadhog had his back to them, and Junkrat was too distracted with talking to him. Their room wasn’t anything like the bounty hunters were expecting. It was surprisingly clean, with all the scrap and weapons shoved into one fenced off corner. Most of the room was taken up with furniture you would expect to see in a nursery. Which didn’t surprise them when they saw it. A little baby, sound asleep in a chair-like device. The bounty hunters figured that must be their kid. Quite frankly, the bounty hunters were surprised that the baby seemed to be well cared for, considering who its parents were. Which gave one of them an idea.

“We need to get Junkrat and Roadhog out of that room,” said the first bounty hunter. “That baby is how we’re gonna do it.”

“What? Like, kidnap it?” The second one replied, horrified his partner would suggest such a thing.

“Look. We’ve been through hell tracking these guys for months,” the first bounty hunter hissed. “We’re so close. You can’t back out now. Think of the bounty. Think of the treasure.”

“Alright. Yeah, you’re right. Okay,” the second bounty hunter took a deep breath and crept inside, past the bickering Junkers, towards the baby laying in the rocker.

“Hoggy, ple-“

Junkrat stopped in his tracks. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. Instinctively, he and Roadhog whipped around to where Trinket was sleeping in her rocker. Only to see that it was empty. Horror gripped Junkrat like nothing he had ever felt before.

“TRINKET!”

Rat and Hog looked around, wild eyed. But Trinket was nowhere to be seen. That was when they heard it. Outside the door, the familiar high pitched wail of a terrified infant.

“TRINKET!” Junkrat screamed, as he and Roadhog burst out of their room and into the corridor.

The Junkers ran through the maze of corridors like their lives depended on it, racing towards the sound of their crying daughter.

Finally able to see them, Athena sounded the alarm.

“ **Alert! Intruders detected! Heading towards the training range. One hostage confirmed. All available agents are required immediately.** ”

Junkrat and Roadhog rounded the corner where they saw the two intruders with Trinket. As if they had been waiting for them. Hog readied his hook. But before he could throw it, the electronic doors slid shut and sparks sputtered from its control panel.

“NO!” Junkrat charged forward, slamming himself into the doors.

He began to thump and bang on them in sheer hysteria.

“TRINKET! TRINKET!” Junkrat yelled. “LET ME IN YA SICK FUCKING DOGS! I SWEAR IF YOU HURT HER YOU’RE DEAD! YA HEAR ME? DEAD!”

No answer came from the other side. Only Trinket’s wail, which grew fainter and fainter with each passing second.

…

Lúcio and D.va were among the first agents to reach the entrance to the training range. They arrived to see Roadhog punching and smashing up the door control panel, and Junkrat pounding on the door yelling threats and profanities to the intruders on the other side. Everyone ran up to them.

“What happened?” asked Lúcio. “What’s wrong?”

“They got her,” Junkrat rasped. “They got Trinket.”

“Trinket?” Brigitte reiterated.

“Dear God,” said McCree

“What do you propose we do?” asked Genji.

“I don’t understand,” said Mei. “What do they want with a baby?”

“It’s not a baby they want,” said Ana. “I was a bounty hunter for many years after Overwatch fell. Enough to know that some are willing to go to extremely unethical lengths to get their targets.”

“Where’s Tracer? Has she been found?” asked Soldier.

The agents all looked at each other. Just then, as if on cue, Tracer rounded the corner.

“Tracer!” Mei exclaimed upon seeing her.

The relief upon seeing her was short lived however. When Tracer started stumbling towards them, it became evident that she had been drugged. Mercy immediately rushed to her aid.

“It’s okay,” she said, helping Tracer to the floor. She propped her up against the wall and gave her a bottle of water. “Can you tell us what happened?”

Tracer took a big swig before speaking.

“Someone, no… two people, grabbed me from behind. Put a cloth over me mouth. Next thing I know, I was on the floor.”

“Did you manage to see these people?” Mercy questioned.

“No. They just attacked me out of the blue. It all happened so fast,” Tracer answered, groggily.

“Hmm. It looks like you need something to reverse the sedative. Ana!” Mercy called.

“Oi!” came an exasperated yell from Junkrat. “Are you lot forgetting that me kid’s been nabbed!”

Junkrat glared at them all in a silent rage, with streaks of tears running down his soot covered face. It looked like Rat was ready to punch someone. No doubt he was sick with worry. In the end, Lúcio spoke up.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, no one’s forgotten. We just need to help Tracer, then come up with a plan. We will get her back, but we can’t just charge in guns blazing,” he reasoned.

“He’s right, Junkrat,” Mei said. “We need to carefully plan what to do next.”

“Fuck that!” Junkrat shrieked. “We don’t have time! What if they’ve already done something to her? What if they kill her?”

“They won’t kill her,” said McCree. “Not yet at least. Killing her would only put them at a disadvantage.“

“ **Soldier?** ” came Athena’s voice suddenly.

“What is it Athena?” said Soldier.

“ **The intruders are attempting to make a video call. Do you wish to see it?** ”

“Sure,” he answered. “Let’s hear what these sick bastards have to say.”

A holographic screen from what looked like one of the training bots popped into view, and Junkrat’s blood ran cold. On the screen, the bounty hunters stood at the far end of the training range, with one of them holding a terrified Trinket in their arms. Worse still, Trinket’s lips and hands were looking a little blue. That was when something snapped in Junkrat. Without thinking, he lunged at the screen, the fear he had for his daughter gone and replaced with a burning rage. Roadhog grabbed Junkrat and held him back.

“Hello, I take it you can see us, finally. First of all, I wish to apologise for all the trouble we’ve caused. You probably know about your comrade by now. Don’t worry, the sedative should wear off soon. She’ll be fine.”

“What do you want?” demanded Soldier.

The bounty hunter chuckled.

“Straight to the point. I see what you military types are like,” he said. “What we want is simple. We’re here for Junkrat and Roadhog. We just wanna talk. Tell them to come meet us outside. Alone. And they better be unarmed. ‘Cos, Y’know, with a kid, accidents can happen. Y’know what I’m saying?”

Junkrat clenched his hands into fists and bared his teeth, but said nothing.

“Anyway, we look forward to seeing them and… having a long overdue talk.”

With that, the screen disappeared.

“Okay! What is the plan?” asked D.va.

“Genji! Hanzo!” barked Soldier. “Do you think you two can go in and neutralise the hostage takers?”

“It is possible,” replied Genji. “But it will be risky. There is no telling what they might do if we are discovered.”

“Well, right now, it’s the best we’ve got,” Soldier reasoned. “So here’s the plan. First we-“

“No!”

Everyone turned to gawk at Junkrat.

“What?” asked Soldier, perplexed.

“I ain’t letting ya gamble with me kid’s life!” Rat asserted. “If those dogs want us, then they can have us.”

“You’re just gonna give yourselves up?” D.va exclaimed.

“If it gets Trinket back, yeah,” said Junkrat.

“What you’re proposing is far more risky than sending in the Shimada’s,” Soldier pointed out. “You have no idea if they’ll hold up their end of the bargain.”

“I have to try!” insisted Rat.

There was a heavy scraping sound as the door that was previously jammed shut slowly slid open.

“We’re waiting!” Came a call from the far side of the training range.

Junkrat looked towards Roadhog, who gave a nod in response. They both took off and threw down their weapons, and entered the training range.


	14. A Treasure For A Trinket

As Junkrat and Roadhog stepped out onto the Training Range, they were immediately greeted with the heart clenching cries of their terrified daughter. It echoed off the walls and platforms, filling the Junkers with pent-up rage. Those bounty hunters had made a terrible mistake, and Junkrat and Roadhog were going to make sure that they knew it. Instinctively, they followed the sound all the way to the balcony. It was there they saw the bounty hunters. They just stood there. Nonchalantly. With one of them holding a wailing Trinket. She was in a terrible state. Her crying was beginning to die down to a pathetic wimpier. And worryingly, Trinket’s hands and lips were looking a little blue. That did it. Without thinking – Junkrat lunged at the bounty hunters, eager to be reunited with his daughter. In response – the bounty hunter holding Trinket held her out over the rails.

“No!” Junkrat yelled, stopping dead in his tracks.

Perfect, the bounty hunters thought. They had the Junkers exactly where they wanted them.

“Come any closer and we drop the kid! Do I make myself clear?” the one not holding Trinket threatened.

Rat just stared on in horror as he saw Trinket being dangled over the railing, and the abyss beneath.

“I asked you a question, Junkrat,” the bounty hunter reiterated, snapping Junkrat out of his trance.

“Y-yeah, sure,” he acknowledged, forcing himself to stay where he was.

“Are you armed?” the bounty hunter demanded, eyeing the Junkers for weapons.

“No – no we ain’t!” Junkrat confirmed, his voice quavering.

“Good,” the bounty hunter said. “Are you alone?”

Junkrat peered over his shoulder just to be sure, but all he saw was Roadhog.

“Er, yeah! I think so,” Rat answered.

“You better be,” hissed the bounty hunter. “Don’t want any nasty accidents to happen now, do we. Y’know what kids are like.”

Junkrat let out a nervous giggle, looking over towards Trinket. She whimpered and tried her best to look towards her fathers.

“Shhh, I’m here Trinky,” Rat tried to reassure her. “I’ll get ya back. Somehow. You’ll be alright!”

“That depends on you,” the bounty hunter cut in.

“What do you want?” Roadhog challenged.

“Heh, straight to the point. I already like you,” said the bounty hunter, feigning politeness.

Roadhog only clenched his fists in response.

“Here’s the deal,” the bounty hunter stipulated. “You let us turn you both in and tell us where the treasure is, in exchange for your kid's safety."

For a split second, an anxious look flashed across Junkrat’s face.

“Pff, dunno what you’re talking about, mate,” said Rat, feigning ignorance. “I mean, treasure? What treasure? Ain’t no treasure to speak of! If I had a treasure, I would gladly give it to ya. But I don’t, so-“

“I don’t think you really understand what’s at stake here,” interrupted the bounty hunter.

He turned towards the other bounty hunter holding Trinket, who began to loosen his grip on her.

“No, don’t!” Rat shouted, reaching out to her.

“Make a decision, Junkrat!” the bounty hunter said. “And really think about it. What can you bear losing most? Cache, or kid? Your treasure, or your child? Your choice.”

Junkrat ran his hands through his hair, hyperventilating as he struggled for an answer. He looked to Roadhog, hoping he would have the solution. But Hog seemed just as conflicted as he was. Junkrat thought about the treasure. That treasure rightfully belonged to him. He had found it. That made it his. He had worked too hard to keep it hidden from others to just give it up. Then he thought about Trinket. He looked at her. Her life literally hanging in the balance. After everything he had been through with her. The heart condition, the surgery, the sleepless nights, the guilt and constant worry he had for her, the very thought of losing her was just unbearable. Suddenly, the treasure no longer seemed so important.

Junkrat then heard Trinket shriek as she began to slip through the bounty hunter’s hands.

“ALRIGHT!” he cried. “Alright, I’ll tell ya! I’ll tell ya. We’ll do whatever ya say, just don’t… don’t drop her.”

The bounty hunter blinked in amazement.

“Huh. You actually chose wisely. Didn’t think you would,” he said.

“Just… gimme back me kid,” begged Junkrat.

The bounty hunter looked at Trinket, still dangling over the rails.

“I think we’ll hold onto her for a while,” he said.

“What?” blurted Junkrat. “You said you’d give her back!”

“I said we wouldn’t drop her, I didn’t say we’d give her back,” the bounty hunter said.

“Why not?” demanded Junkrat.

“You wouldn’t be allowed to keep her, even if we did,” the bounty hunter explained. “Besides, it’s better this way. We know what you Junkers are like.“

“What are you saying?” growled Junkrat, his eyes darkening.

“What I’m saying,” the bounty hunter gloated, enjoying how angry he was making Junkrat. “Is that she’d be better off in an orphanage. Or as a ward of the state. Or just anyone who can actually take care of her. Better that than having Junkers as parents.”

Junkrat saw red. He lunged at the bounty hunters in a fit of rage, ready to tear them limb from limb for having dared question his parenting skills.

Suddenly, the bounty hunter holding Trinket let go.

Junkrat’s heart stopped. He stood paralysed as Trinket slipped through the bounty hunter’s hands and fell down, down, down into the abyss below. All he could do was watch.

A deafening silence fell over the Training Range. Then, a bloodcurdling wail escaped Junkrat.

Roadhog looked on, fists shaking with fury as he saw his grief-stricken partner fall to his knees.

Junkrat did his best to hold back the tears of sorrow. But try as he might, they came anyway. He looked up at the bounty hunters, utterly defeated.

“Now look what you’ve done,” the bounty hunter sighed. “This could’ve been easily a…”

The bounty hunter stopped, a confused look on his face. It's then that Junkrat heard it. A baby’s cry. The sound echoed across the Training Range. Everyone followed the sound to the platforms where the sound seemed to be coming from. There, stood Tracer. In her arms, a baby. And not just any baby either.

“Trinket?” Junkrat murmured, not quite believing his eyes.

“Alright there, gents?” the plucky Brit greeted the Junkers.

The Junkers waved back confusedly.

“You blokes made the wrong decision coming here and messing with us,” said Tracer to the bounty hunters. “Looks like you two could use a time out.”

The bounty hunters turned back to the Junkers, their eyes a raging inferno. They reached for their sides and drew out handguns. But before they could aim them, Roadhog charged forth and knocked the first bounty hunter out with a single blow. Seeing his comrade fall, the second bounty hunter ran. But he didn’t get very far before Junkrat tackled him to the ground. The bounty hunter tried to fight back, but Junkrat was soon on him, giving him the beat-down of his life. Junkrat struck him repeatedly. Over and over again, knocking the bounty hunter senseless, and even then he didn’t stop. In the end, it took Roadhog to wrench Junkrat off the bounty hunter. It was a miracle he wasn’t dead.

Junkrat calmed the minute he saw Tracer holding Trinket. He reached out for her, eyes watering. Tracer placed the bawling infant in his arms. For a while, Junkrat stared at her, still not quite believing his eyes. Then when he couldn’t take it anymore, Junkrat broke down and wept tears of relief.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he said, his voice quavering. “I’m here… I’m here.”

…

The bounty hunters were taken to the Med Bay where they were patched up. Then, still unconscious, they were taken to the Orca and sent to Moscow. Torbjörn had to work to fix the damage the bounty hunters had done. Much to his annoyance. They had done a pretty decent amount of it. Trinket was also looked over, to make sure that she hadn’t sustained any injuries from her fall. Apart from needing oxygen for a few hours, she was mostly unharmed. Luckily, Tracer had caught her before she hit the ground. Needless to say, Junkrat wouldn’t let her out of his sight. As for Tracer herself, the sedative the bounty hunters had given her had completely worn off, with few side effects to speak of. Despite the threat being over, however, the whole of Overwatch was placed on high alert the rest of the day. 

…

Two weeks had passed and it was the day of Trinket’s second surgery. She was back in her incubator, hooked up to various machines and drips. The Junkers stood by her. How they felt was beyond words. The first time was hard enough, but a second time was harrowing. Especially for Junkrat. They knew she needed the surgery, but it didn’t stop them imagining all the ways it could go wrong. At least this time, however, they knew somewhat what to expect.

“Okay,” said Mercy. “We’re ready to put her under. Do you want to say goodnight to her?”

Roadhog nudged Junkrat, who until then had been so transfixed on their daughter.

“Oh, uh… yeah,” Rat said, uncertainly.

He put his hand into the incubator and let Trinket hold his finger.

“Uh… g’night Trinky,” cooed Junkrat. “Don’t let the bedbugs bite ya and shit.”

Roadhog rolled his eyes at that. Junkrat never was very good with sentimental words.

“Ya be good, alright?” Rat continued. “Don’t go dying on us now.”

Trinket began looking drowsy. The anaesthetic was starting to take hold.

“Gotta be a real fighter. Like us. Like me and Roadie. Just… be alright.”

And with that, Trinket slipped into unconsciousness. The Junkers watched as she was wheeled off to surgery.

“She’ll be alright, won’t she?” Junkrat asked Roadhog.

Roadhog lightly placed a hand on Junkrat’s shoulder.

“She’ll be right,” he assured.


	15. Happy Birthday!

_Seven months later_

“Remind me why I agreed to go through this again,” Junkrat grumbled.

“You wanted to keep the kid,” Roadhog answered.

“Yeah well, I think I… Oh hell.”

Junkrat began to breathe heavily. Roadhog handed him the breathing filter that connected to a gas canister. He took it and eagerly inhaled the gas and air.

“That’s good, Jamison! Keep breathing,” said Mercy.

As the contraction loosened its grip on him, Junkrat let out a pained groan.

”I’m dying!” he proclaimed.

“You sound very alive to me,” said Mercy.

Rat was ready to deck her at this point.

Junkrat had gone into labour sometime during the early hours of the morning. It had started with Roadhog waking up to a damp bed, and to Junkrat trying to hide his obvious discomfort. Even in his sleep-addled mind, it didn’t take long for Roadhog to put two and two together. Junkrat of course panicked and denied he was in labour, coming up with all sorts of alternative explanations from braxton hicks to gas. Obviously, Roadhog didn’t buy any of it, insisting that they go to the Med Bay. But Junkrat was having none of it. He absolutely refused to give birth in that cold, sterile, hellhole. If he was to have the baby anywhere, Rat had argued, it would be in his own room where everything was familiar to him. Junkrat now sat naked, straddling his workshop chair. All while leaning into a pillow that had been added for extra comfort. Roadhog sat on the bed behind him, rubbing his back to try to ease the pain. Junkrat continued to puff on the gas and air that Mercy had kindly got for him after he _demanded_ he have drugs. Preferably hogdrogen. But Rat guessed gas and air was the next best thing.

Mercy watched the two Junkers from a corner of the room. It was one of the few things she was allowed to do. Upon arriving, Junkrat had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t want her anywhere near him unless it was really necessary. Meaning the most she could do was fetch equipment, and sit and observe with a timer in her hand. Junkrat let out another moan. Mercy clicked the stopwatch button. Ten minutes. Still a while to go.

…

“Roadie… Roadie,” rasped Junkrat, “The gas ain’t working no more… S’not enough… Need something stronger.”

Roadhog looked to Mercy.

“There is something stronger,” she confirmed. “We could give him something called an epidural. But he would have to come to the Med Bay to have it since I can only give it to him there.”

“No!” Junkrat yelled.

Both Roadhog and Mercy turned to look at him.

“No no no no no! I ain’t going to that shithole! I ain’t going! Ya can’t make me!”

“Jamison,” Mercy cooed. “No one is going to make you do anything. If you don’t want to go to the Med Bay, that’s okay. But it does mean you can’t have an epidural.”

“H-hogdrogen!” Junkrat gasped, turning to Roadhog.

“What?” Hog asked, confused.

Suddenly, Junkrat grabbed him by the harness and pulled him close until they were face to face.

“Give, me, your, hogdrogen!” He hissed, his voice practically dripping venom.

“No,” Hog said, unfazed.

“What d’ya mean, no? I need it!” Rat said, outraged.

“No, you don’t,” said Roadhog, pulling away from Junkrat’s grasp.

“Hoggy? Mate? Pal? Luv?” Rat sneered. “I swear, if you don’t give me your hogdrogen right now, I’ll make sure you never see your cut of the treasure! In fact, I’ll fire you as me bodyguard, if the baby doesn’t kill me first!”

“We both know that won’t happen,” Roadhog deadpanned.

“FUCK YOU!”

“If I may,” Mercy interjected. “While I cannot offer you more pain killers without bringing you to the Med Bay, there are plenty of methods you can use to cope with the pain.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Rat snapped.

Mercy pondered.

“Well…”

…

Junkrat proceeded to bounce his hips on a yoga ball. Doing so in time with his breathing, as Mercy had instructed. Even just a few minutes ago, he would have felt stupid doing this. But now? The sheer relief it offered to his back was a godsend. Why hadn’t he done this sooner?

“Oooh fuck,” he moaned, as another contraction gripped him. “Ha-how much… longer?”

“I’m afraid there’s no set time for labour,” said Mercy. “The baby will come when it’s good and ready.”

Seeing as Junkrat was about to protest again, she continued.

“But, second labours tend to be a lot shorter than the first.”

“Not short enough,” Rat griped.

…

Junkrat paced the length of the bedroom. Half limping half waddling, with Roadhog by his side supporting him. The pacing helped a little. But only a little. Junkrat suddenly stopped and gripped Hog tighter. He then yelped as his legs gave out from under him. Luckily, Roadhog caught him before he hit the ground. Junkrat clung to Hog for dear life, whining as the contraction reached its peak. Hog looked to Mercy, hoping for some sort of guidance.

“Try slow dancing,” she said.

Might as well, Roadhog thought. They had never slow danced before. That was something people in soppy movies did. But anything was better than watching on uselessly as his partner suffered. Roadhog took Junkrat and began swaying him from side to side. Before long, Junkrat started swaying with him, burying his head in Hog’s chest. There was no music, but there was a sort of rhythm to it. The two continued to dance together, rocking to and fro in time with Junkrat’s breathing.

…

Since having Trinket, Junkrat had forgotten just how painful giving birth could get. Oh, how he wished he hadn’t. Several hours later, and Junkrat had gone from moaning and groaning to full-on screaming. No matter what he did, nothing eased his torment. He had tried everything suggested to cope with the throes of childbirth. He had tried breathing, tried relaxing, tried changing positions, but nothing worked. All he could do was pant, moan, and scream his lungs out. The pain he was in was unreal. It was as if his own body was doing everything it could to torture him. Which, if that was the case, it was doing a good job of. Rat didn’t know how much more he could take. Eventually, Roadhog sat down on the bed and held Junkrat in his arms. Rat clung to him desperately, as if that would help somehow. Roadhog passed the breathing filter to Junkrat. He knew it no longer worked, but what else could he do? Junkrat inhaled the gas and air in a futile attempt to ease his suffering.

“I hate you,” he growled. “You did this to me. It‘s bad enough that ya make me squeeze out one kid, but oh no, ya had to then go and put another one in me! Just you wait! When this is over, I’m cutting your balls off!”

That was when another contraction hit him. Junkrat shrieked as he was overcome with another wave of pain. He curled in on himself, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. He clutched at Roadhog.

“H-hold me,” Junkrat begged. “Hold me, Roadie… Hold me… Don’t… Don’t let me go…”

Despite having just been threatened with castration, Roadhog obliged.

“I won’t,” Hog murmured.

Roadhog rubbed Rat’s aching back, while Junkrat choked back tears of agony.

…

“Roadie?” Junkrat gasped.

“Yes?” asked Roadhog.

“I… I need… I need to… to… to… to…”

“Push?”

“Yeah, that,” Rat confirmed.

“In that case, let me check you over,” said Mercy, getting up to approach them.

Mercy disinfected her hands and snapped on a pair of latex gloves, before examining him thoroughly. Junkrat squirmed at the sensation of it all, not liking how it felt.

“Well,” Mercy said, sounding rather chipper. “Looks like your fully dilated. Would you like to get into a better position to push?”

“…Y-Yeah,” Rat answered.

Both Roadhog and Mercy helped Junkrat manoeuvre himself until he was kneeling on the bed. Roadhog supported him on one side, Mercy the other.

“Whenever you’re ready, Jamison,” said Mercy.

Junkrat‘s heart sank as another excruciating birth pang began, along with an overwhelming desire to bear down. He shifted himself, spreading his legs apart in preparation. Rat panted harder as the pain grew more and more, sweat dripping from his face. When the contraction reached its peak, Junkrat couldn’t take it any more and bore down hard. He felt something inside him shift down into his pelvis. Junkrat gave a pathetic wimpier.

“Good job!” praised Mercy. “Now breathe.”

Junkrat did as he was told, breathing in and out. Mercy once again checked him over, looking for any signs of the baby.

“Can’t see anything yet,” she said.

Junkrat let out a frustrated groan.

“You’re doing really well, Jamison,” Mercy said. “I know you want this to be over. And it will be. So long as you keep pushing.”

Junkrat bore down a second time, his face contorting at the sheer effort.

“That’s good!” commended Mercy. “Your baby is now well on the way!”

“Oh, shut up!” moaned Rat, before bearing down again.

Junkrat pushed with each contraction, with Mercy and Roadhog coaching him trough them. Making sure he rested between pushes to keep his strength up. As Rat bore down, the pressure he felt grew and grew to immense levels. It felt like he was trying to birth a bowling ball. It had only been a few minutes before Mercy saw something.

“Okay! I think I can see the head coming,” she announced.

“Come on, Jamie,” urged Roadhog.

“THE FUCK… D’YA… THINK I’M… TRYING… TO DO!” Rat cried out as he pushed again.

Suddenly, Junkrat shrieked as he felt an awful burning stinging sensation as the head began crowning. That was when he lost it. He started screaming and thrashing wildly, lashing out at Mercy and Roadhog in a blind panic.

“Jamison!” exclaimed Mercy, releasing him from her support.

Roadhog held onto Junkrat however, letting him thrash against him until Rat came out of his hysteria.

“It’s gonna rip me open!” Rat sobbed, starting to hyperventilate. “It’s gonna rip me open and get stuck like last time!”

Roadhog and Mercy looked at each other, worry setting in. They needed to calm Junkrat down – and soon. Otherwise, he could have a full-blown panic attack, which would be dangerous to both himself and the baby. Roadhog took hold of Junkrat and made him face him.

“Jamie. Focus on me,” commanded Hog.

Rat looked up at him, his eyes wide with fright.

“Jamison?” Mercy said, gently. “I can’t make any promises. But if you do what I say, the chances of you tearing are much smaller. You have to push the baby’s head out slowly. Do you understand?”

Junkrat nodded, sweat and tears dripping down his face.

“Okay. On the next contraction, use small pushes,” she instructed.

It was difficult and required a lot of self-discipline, but anything was better than risking another tear. Slowly but surely, the rest of the head emerged. Junkrat felt it all, writhing in discomfort. Just when he thought he couldn’t take the pressure anymore, he felt a sudden pop and some of the pressure dissipate.

“The head’s out!” Mercy stated. “Stop pushing!”

Rat did as he was told.

“Take a break, Jamison. You’ve earned it,” Mercy said, before checking the baby didn’t have its umbilical cord around its neck.

Junkrat buried his head in Roadhog’s shoulder, huffing and panting, and shaking like a leaf.

“You’ve done well, Jamie,” said Roadhog, rubbing Rat’s shoulder.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Mako,” Rat murmured, feebly. “It hurts… Hurts so bad.”

“You have to,” Hog affirmed. “It will be over soon.”“Everything’s clear, Jamison,” said Mercy. “Whenever you’re ready.”

As if on cue, Junkrat felt the pain rise up again. He was spent, and drained, and was just about ready to drop. But the end was finally in sight. As it reached its peak, Rat bore down hard. With a pop, the shoulder came free, followed closely by the other. Then suddenly, a tiny body fell into Mercy’s hands. Junkrat collapsed into Roadhog and heaved an exhausted sigh. It was over. Junkrat lay in Roadhog’s arms, feeling absolutely sore and trying to catch his breath. That was when a shrill wail caught his attention. Still in a delirium, Junkrat forced his eyes open to see what the hell was making all that racket. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the baby in Mercy’s hands. His baby… _His_ baby. And not only that…

“It’s another girl,” Mercy said, blissfully.

For a while, Junkrat was at a loss for words.

“Can… Can I hold her?” he found himself asking.

“Of course you can!” said Mercy, passing the crying baby to Junkrat.

Once placed into his arms, the baby’s cries died down into whimpers. Junkrat and Roadhog gazed at her, awestruck. A wave of emotions overcame both of them all at once. Roadhog’s breath hitched in his throat, and fresh tears spilled from Rat’s eyes as they took in the sight of their new daughter. The first thing they both immediately noticed was that this baby had blonde hair just like Junkrat. Only her’s was much softer, and not singed. She was also very big. Much bigger than Trinket was when she was born. It was any wonder how Junkrat was able to have her without all the problems of his last birth. But that didn’t matter now. Not while they could bask in this beautiful moment.

“So,” Mercy said, interrupting their thoughts. “What do you plan to call her?”

…

After Mercy had cut the umbilical cord, and Junkrat had delivered the afterbirth, the infant was cleaned, weighed, and wrapped up in blankets and a hat to keep her warm. The baby weighed in at a whopping nine pounds eight ounces. Compared to Trinket’s seven pounds seven ounces. When all was said and done, Mercy left to get some rest herself. Luckily for her, their newest recruit, Baptiste, had agreed to fill in her role while she was helping the Junkers. Roadhog down sat by Junkrat who was lying in bed with their baby by his side. Junkrat was just about to drift off to the land of nod when there was a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” Roadhog asked, annoyed.

“Hey, hey! Babysitters calling!” came Lúcio’s voice from behind the door.

Reluctantly, Roadhog got up and opened the door. Lúcio and D.va stood outside, with Lúcio holding a sleepy Trinket in his arms. Only a month or so ago, she had celebrated her first birthday. Hog remembered Junkrat being ecstatic about the whole celebration. He had done everything to make sure Trinket had only the best of everything. No expenses spared. Nothing was too good for his kid. Roadhog opened the door wider to let them in, holding a finger to his mask.

“How was she?” he asked.

“Exhausting,” said D.va. “I dunno who’s more tired. Us, or her.”

She yawned for good measure.

“In all seriousness though,” Lúcio interjected. “She was a blast to have. I’d love to teach her how to make more tunes in future.”

“How’s Junkrat?” asked D.va.

Roadhog turned to look back in Junkrat’s direction. He saw Rat lying in bed, letting the baby clasp his left index finger.

“Tired, but fine,” was his answer.

“… Can we see it?” D.va asked, apprehensively.

“If you’re quiet,” said Roadhog.

Lúcio handed Trinket over to Roadhog and with D.va by his side, approached Junkrat. It took a while for Rat to notice they were there, but when he did, a big smile spread across his face.

“G’day, mates,” he greeted, wearily. “I’m afraid you missed the show. Rug-rat’s already here.”

“They’re gorgeous,” said D.va. “Boy or girl?”

“A little sheila,” said Junkrat, beaming.

“What’s her name?” asked Lúcio.

“Er… good question,” said Rat, “Hoggy, What was her name again?”

“You said it was Mykie,” answered Roadhog.

“Oh yeah!” said Junkrat. “Yeah, her name’s Mykie.”

“What a lovely name,” D.va commented.

Roadhog cleared his throat behind them.

“Oh, yeah,” Lúcio realised. “Hey, Junkrat. We gotta go. But would you like us to come back tomorrow?”

“Yeah! I’d like that!” said Junkrat.

“We can babysit anytime you need us to,” said D.va. “Still gotta teach her how to get her kill streak up.”

“And teach her some sick beats,” Lúcio added.

Hog rolled his eyes at those remarks.

“That would be aces!” Junkrat agreed.

“Okay then! See ya around,” said Lúcio. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“Oh, and congratulations!” D.va added.

And with that, both D.va and Lúcio left. Leaving Junkrat, Roadhog, Trinket, and Mykie alone together. Roadhog bounced Trinket in his arms, awaking the tired infant. Junkrat was only delighted to see her.

“Hey, Trinket!” he greeted her. “Come see ya new sister!”

Trinket looked into the bundle of blankets to where the baby lay. She stared at her blankly, not quite sure what to make of her. She was still too young to understand that she would no longer be the centre of attention. Roadhog went around to his side of the bed and placed Trinket down next to her other father and her newborn sister. She then snuggled up to Junkrat and fell asleep. Junkrat soon followed suit. Roadhog took Mykie from Junkrat’s arms and held her. He sat down in the rocking chair, watching the only three people he really liked in his life rest. They all stayed that way for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot close this fic without crediting my beta readers. So I just want to say, thank you Your_Bones, Junks-Stuff, & Ausecorejunkrat. I couldn't have done this without you.
> 
> That being said however, this story is still far from over. Stay tuned for the sequel ;)


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